Where is Your Heart
by PrussianMongrel
Summary: He had been walking home, between the old vine covered abandoned cars, carrying firewood in arm when he heard a relentless scream. He dropped the stack of wood and began running as fast as he could.   AU M for later Chapters. Adult themes, character death
1. Where is Your Heart

_Hey to everyone reading this. I had to write this for the simple reason that the pairing of Sweden and Finland has really caught on the last couple of weeks and I just had to write something for it. And no… It couldn't be simple… It had to be some large AU story that comes out of nothing and has no serious plotline. _

_**Warning: **__Yaoi, boy x boy, 'evil' wizard, confusion of good and bad, mythical creatures appear… but not fairies… Well… maybe some… but not the stupid kind… you'll see what I mean. Maybe I'll do a lemon… or just suggest that there is one… because there is Mpreg. One thing I'm a sucker for is Mpreg. Swearing, alcohol, gore, adult themes, violence and I need a bad guy by chapter five! Is not Ivan! Is not Arthur! Those two are strictly forbidden as evil in this story… So I'll come up with someone unless you've any suggestions for the evil bad guy… that I agree with…_

_**Where is Your Heart – Kelly Clarkson **_

_I don't believe_

_In the smile that you left me with_

_When you walk away and say goodbye_

_Well I don't expect_

_The world to implode beneath me but for God's sake could you try_

_I know that you're true to me_

_You're always there, you say you care_

_I know that you wanna be mine_

_Where is your heart?_

_Cause I don't really feel you_

_Where is your heart?_

_What I really need is to believe you_

_Is it so hard to give me what I need_

_I want your heart to bleed_

_And that's all I'm asking for_

_Where is your heart?_

_I don't understand_

_Your love is so cold_

_It's always me reaching out for your hand_

_I always dreamed_

_That love would be effortless_

_Like a petal falling to the ground _

_A dreamer following his dream_

_It seems so much is left inside_

_But you can say anything_

_Oh anytime you need_

_Baby it's just you and me_

_I know that you're true to me_

_You're always there, you say you care_

_I know that you wanna be mine_

:::

The heat of the market place was unbearable and people's hair stuck to the sides of their faces and the backs of their necks, due to the accumulation of the thick sticky sweat that rolled out of their pores under the relentless eyes of the desert sun.

Flies dodged irritable hands and buzzed lazily around the patties left by the oxen that pulled the carts and wagons across the cobble stones with a low hum of content, as their masters were too tired to use the feared and dreaded cane across their hides and instead supplied them with a sweet refreshment either from juicy fruit or a serving of cool metallic water.

Countless sales persons shouted their wares in a bid to attract the countless customers who could hardly care less or need the things they bought let alone afford it.

But the fine jewelry from the sands, the silks from the east and the delicacies of the desert lands meant nothing to three strange men.

They were of the most northern European tribes.

The first of their group was loud and boisterous. Waltzing around as if he had not a care in the world, his large almost over emphasized battle axe drawing attention, though not as much as it would have in another time and place. His name was Mathias Køhler and he had been orphaned from a small village that had been slaughtered by the most evil of villains. People only knew him as the King of Darkness. Angered by the death of all but him in his village and a few small words the 'King' had exchanged with him, he had swung his father's wood axe at him, taking a slice out of his leg, and ran for his life. He eventually came to live with a man the people of the world saw as their savior. The one to rid them of this dark King… The sobbing ten year old Dane had been taken in and taught to live the emotionless life of the warrior. And he did it well, though still had yet to achieve keeping his emotions under control. He was the elder and the leader.

The second of the party and the youngest was a young man who had grown up on the rocky cliffs in Norway. He never shared too much information about himself with anyone. He had forgotten his name and had returned to his family home to find it burnt to the ground when he still had a grasp of it as a ten year old boy. Ignoring the flames that licked greedily at his clothes and skin in ways that would make him cry out in pain later, he walked through the wreck and salvaged only one recognizable artifact. A small silver brooch once owned by his mother who was a woman of fine stature as he put it. He was found by the Savior curl up and half burnt in the ash, clutching the small silver cross to his chest. He woke up three days later, healed and well as if a miracle had occurred. The Savior asked him to join him in freeing the people and he readily agreed. He had fashioned the brooch into a hairclip and used that as a tribute to his family forever more. The only downside to this was that he was already of a very slight figure and delicate facial characteristics so that whenever he wore the hairclip he would be confused for a girl… more so than usual.

The Norwegian walked beside Mathias with two paces to his stride. They were arguing about what name to give the shorter of the two until he remembered his real name.

It was a similar argument that had started out their odd friendship when he had come to live with the Savior and had first met Mathias in the training yards.

Mathias thought he had been a girl so kept trying to give him girl names and they always bickered. None the less, Mathias developed feelings for this 'girl' and on the night of his eighteenth, three weeks since the other had reached his sixteenth, Mathias succeeded in doing something he never thought possible. Luring the other to his bed.

It had all started with a kiss, which Mathias snuck in every chance he got with a cheeky grin. But it had turned out differently than all the other countless times he had brushed against the fairer cheek with a feathery breath. The Norwegian had turned and kissed him back.

Ignited by whatever strange passion they held, they found themselves in the Dane's room and Mathias found a young man in front of him instead of a woman. He had been confused and the younger blushing profusely.

Somehow, and all their friends blocked their ears when it came to this part, the two still slept together and the next morning Mathias vowed to stay by the younger male's side until he no longer wanted him. Three years later and the two are closer than ever… which is odd considering at this point in time…

"Fuck off you moron! You're not calling me Nora! God you're such an idiot… I wish you would just disappear!" The Norwegian stormed off through the crowded market place with Mathias running after him, grinning like he just had the best lecture in the world from an expert on beer. That being one of his favored beverages.

Up on the roof tops, overlooking the scene was the third member of their party and the second oldest. He rolled his eyes and continued to scan the square for any signs of danger. He would have been down there with the other two… but for some odd reason, he seemed to scare people without even knowing it. Maybe it was the fact that he almost always seemed to glare or of because of his towering height. But for whatever the reason, he couldn't afford to scare the locals. It would be very bad for them if they earned themselves a bad name and reputation in this area as they were on an errand for the Savior.

The third member of the party was from Sweden. He had been with the Savior far less long than the others. But he was still determined to prove his worth. He hadn't lived in a country type village or on the cliffs. He had lived in one of the old rotting cities, away from all humanity save from his small son and flourishing wife. He had smiled then. He had loved. They made their home in the top floor of what had once been a great hotel, now a simple family home. The hotel would have thrived in the time where technology reigned. But now the only three people in the city save for about four other small families that claimed other districts, were the only ones to give life to the place. It was a hard life, but a good one and Berwald Oxenstierna would have given anything to have it back.

He had been walking home, between the old vine covered abandoned cars, carrying firewood in arm when he heard a relentless scream. He dropped the stack of wood and began running as fast as he could.

The scream cut short abruptly and a few moments later he turned the corner to see a man in a black cloak standing above the mangled and contorted bodies of his wife and son. In his hand there was a bloodied sword and his golden hair darkened by the offensive color that tainted his blade and the pavement.

At the sound of Berwald's approach, he had turned and looked over his shoulder with piercing green eyes. The first thought to cross the Swede's mind was that he had never seen eyes that had seemed to witness so much sorrow in their lifetime.

The second thought was at a look the man cast to his wife and child before walking away, saying one thing before he left. "I was counting on you being here sooner…"

Falling to his knees, Berwald closed his eyes and waited for death. But it never came and he realized the stranger had left.

"_I was counting on you being here sooner…"_

Did that mean that if he had been there sooner, if he hadn't gone out for firewood, that this stranger would have killed him instead…?

It was his fault his family died. The only people he could talk to without having to pass a note to explain what he was trying to say. The only people he had ever loved.

He shed not one single tear as he buried them. He stood staring at their graves unsleeping, and staring down at them listlessly as if there was no soul within him. And soon, two maybe three days later, curious as to why he hadn't been around with his wife and child of late, the other people that resided in the rotting city, found him standing there, standing tall and stiff as he looked at the settling mounds of dirt, dry eyes and a glare that could melt ice and freeze fire across his face.

Their friend that smiled for them and shared jokes with them, laughing animatedly when they had a bit too much to drink was gone… some how buried with his family. The person standing before them was a stranger. They asked what happened, wary and frightened of him.

"Th'nk n'th'n' m'r' th'n I m'rd'r'd th'm…" He said with the thick Swedish accent saying, if not under stood; Think nothing more than I murdered them…

And then he had turned and left. Not knowing where he was going. Not quite knowing what they would think of him now. He just walked. Step after step; never sleeping, never eating… just walking until he fell and died on the side of the road.

And then one day after many days of this painful continuance, he just collapsed on the side of the road. The rocks and dirt grating against his grazed flesh painfully. But he didn't care. The numbness was overtaking him and he was on the fringes of blackness. His glasses had fallen a few feet away and were horribly scratched. But as already said he didn't care.

But then a pair of feet joined his blurred and failing line of sight and he looked up at someone, silhouetted by the sun behind him.

He knew he looked helpless and pathetic from where he lay, hair horribly dirty, face scratched, eyes narrowed as he tried to get a clear line of sight and his mouth half open with a line of drool running down his cheek. Helpless; Pathetic; Weak; and on the verge of death. All those things and more. And it made him ashamed to be so in front of this person, whoever they may be.

As he lay there, dying and feeling ashamed of that fact, the stranger stooped and picked up his glasses, wiping them before setting them back on his face.

"You have yet to shed your tears my friend."

Berwald's eye's rolled back and his eyelids folded closed before he had anything to make of the man.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in a bed with a tray of hot food and cool water being served to him. A meal foreign to him, but nice nonetheless.

He only ever saw the stranger once more and that was to give him a key to his own small house built out of logs with a whicker roof and get his permission to let him join the great and honorable cause against the evil Shadow King!

The man seemed pretty passionate about it but once again, Berwald didn't care. He didn't show any form of emotion and refused to share anything about his story with this man except the exact same words he had said the morning he left his home. Which of course he had to write on a piece of paper to make him understand. But despite his refusal to share much about himself except his name, he thanked his savior, also to be known as THE Savior, and took up his new accommodation as soon as he was allowed out of bed.

Living in the castle had been odd while he was recovering… but the sudden change from the abandoned city environment to the small wooden log house was much stranger. He was around nineteen at this time. His wife at eighteen and son at two, died only one month ago.

As soon as he moved into the small house… not home… house, he left within the hour for early training where he met his neighbors Mathias and the nameless boy, who had been a couple for one year at this time. They would be his new 'best friends' as Mathias put it… and he did enjoy their company and said friendship. But they never made him smile, for all that they tried and all that the Dane held competitions around the small warriors' city. No one made him smile. His lip never even twitched and his eyes remained the deep midnight blue pools of self hate.

But one evening, by a small fire as the three ate a stew he had cooked to thank them for their… attempts and trouble, some things were said and they managed to get him to tell them about his life and what really happened to his family. He told them and they were shocked…

… But still, he didn't cry…

Now two years going and back on the roof top, swatting a fly away from his ear, he watched Mathias chase after the nameless man, now no longer boy, and apologize for calling him Nora.

The Savior had told them that they would know what they were looking for when they saw it. But he could see nothing, and the heat waning on his concentration. God he could have gone with a glass of cold water right about now…

And then he saw it.

Both much too pale to be from the desert clans… and appearances far too fair. The taller looking one had blonde hair and ice blue eyes. By appearance he was the older of the two. He looked strict and hard, but held a quick smile for the man at his side.

The shorter of the two companions chattered away happily and Berwald lip read the word, Awesome, several times over. He had white hair and even paler skin and his eyes just screamed blood with the violent red disposition.

Berwald signaled to Mathias and the Norwegian and they looked in his direction, both signaling that they already knew. Hence they busied themselves and took up their allotted positions.

Following their general direction, he saw that they were headed towards a small stall that sold cheap broth. What the hell were they going there for? They couldn't just be hungry?

:::

_Uh yes… that's the first chapter I suppose~ _

_It should be getting more interesting third chapter probably. In the next chapter we'll be walking with Finland~! XD Yeaha ~ and after the next chapter, they should also be getting longer too~ these are just quick intro tit bits before the actual story. _

_Hope you're reading this and you should know I'm throwing aside all cares for other stories by writing this, so get your butt to the review box and leave a cookie! And a fresh out of the oven Review if you please. _

_3_

_Prussian Mongrel XD_

_THERE US NOW A PLOT LINE!_


	2. Breakaway

_Um, Hey, second chapter and all. So far I think I have one reviewer… Well here is you MOAR~! Once again, it is only a small chapter, the longer ones to come soon enough. _

_WARNING::: Implications of rape. _

_Breakaway __ ~ Kelly Clarkson_

_Grew up in a small town_

_And when the rain would fall down_

_I'd just stare out my window_

_Dreaming of what could be_

_And if I'd end up happy_

_I would pray_

_Trying hard to reach out_

_But when I tried to speak out _

_Felt like no one could hear me_

_Wanted to belong here_

_But something felt so wrong here_

_So I prayed_

_I could breakaway_

_I'll spread my wings_

_And I'll learn how to fly_

_I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky_

_And I'll make a wish_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And breakaway_

_Want to feel the warm breeze_

_Sleeping under palm trees_

_Feel the rush of the ocean _

_Get onboard a fast train_

_Travel on a jet plane _

_Far away_

_And breakaway_

_Buildings with a hundred floors_

_Spinning round revolving doors_

_Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but_

_Gotta keep moving on_

_Moving on_

_Fly away_

_Breakaway_

_I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly_

_Though it's not easy_

_To tell you goodbye_

_I gotta take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And breakaway_

_Out of the darkness and into the sun_

_But I won't forget the place I come from_

_I gotta take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And breakaway_

_Breakaway_

_Breakaway_

:::

It was unbelievably hot today. Hotter than it ever had been in the young man's life. Even if the locals were used to it and he was just a silly Northern Man who had decided to live there, he had a right to complain on this day, for the local desert folk were complaining too.

But he didn't complain. Because no matter how stifling the heat was, more and more people were coming to his small stall to by cool sweet drinks and the filling yet re-hydrating broth.

For all its plainness, as it was north broth instead of the tangy desert broths, it was quite tasty. Which meant people always came back for more. Which meant his business was good and he good live a comfortable life… if he weren't saving every piece of bronze, gold and silver to return home.

He hadn't actually decided to make his home in the desert. His home had been ransacked and young children were taken to become slaves. They had marched them all the way to the desert, underneath the great pyramids and sphinx, and sold them to people in the shanty city to work. Many children had died from the heat or malnutrition as there had been a great famine when they arrived.

Out of eight children, one had escaped and run into the Sahara, left for the vultures, and two remained alive. One was a small girl that had been captured after he was. She was sent to learn how to dance and sing to entertain at festivals. He however was sent to work as a slave at the palace carved into the sphinx many years ago.

He'd been picked on by all the masters he had worked for and even the other slaves turned the heads from their work if only to jeer at him.

The previous year, as he had been walking down a long marble corridor and celebrating his sixteenth birthday to himself, the head of the family he was working for at the time gagged and bound him and took him to a private room with chains and knives.

He had a rite to be scared. Especially when the man said that he celebrated the coming of age with all the slaves.

For one week he had gone without work, but he had been put through the worst torture of his life.

After exactly seven days, he was taken out of the dark room and thrown back into the slaves quarters. They had been eating their daily rations when they turned to look at him.

They had been heartless and shameless.

Still bruised and bloodied and still with hot substance running down his legs, he was 'shared' around with the rest of the slaves while in his weakened state. The jeers always on their lips. They said, for how else could we gain gratification and he was such a woman with the way he did things, so why not invoke their lust on him.

At the end of the day, all the slaves went to bed and forgot about him. He lay aching and trembling, covered in filth, curled up in a dark corner, sobbing, though quietly for fear that one would return to keep him 'quiet'.

He almost screamed when he felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and he spun around, pressing his back to the stone wall behind him to move away from the three men.

One in the middle stepped forward and knelt in front of him and proceeded to clean him with a towel.

He didn't move. He couldn't. He was too scared and was watching all three with jittery fleeting glances.

"Shh, it's aright. " The one cleaning him said as he rubbed a stain off of his cheek. "I am Gupter… These are my friends, Heracles and Sadiq… We are escaping tonight… You will come with us…"

"I-I'm not coming to be a traveling whore."

"If you stay here my friend, then you will only be put through the same lament day after day." Sadiq said. "Well… until they get bored of you… ask Heracles here. He has been through the same."

Heracles nodded silently and knowingly. But he looked like he had accepted it. He simply looked tired. "It is either escape and forget or stay and learn to live with it…" He said with a slight Greek accent.

"What is your answer…?" Gupter asked, holding his chin gently to look into his eyes. Tino couldn't speak. But somehow… Gupter could. "He says yes."

"I-I did…"

"Yeah… trust Gupter to see into people's minds." Sadiq said with a small smile. "Have you heard of the Shadow King and the Savior…?"

He nodded once. He knew who they were and he kind of guessed where these three were going with their escape plan. Heracles completed the explanation.

"We've been hearing rumors… That the Shadow King is the righteous one… that he and the Savior have been mixed up with their roles. People say he's evil because right after a village is burnt down or a family brutally murdered, he is always there. But what if he is always there due to accident… what if he is there looking for the one who did it?"

"And you are…?"

"We are going to go and join him righteous or not… The people here worship the Savior and follow his words and orders without hesitance. Would someone sent to save us request slaves…?"

"… No…" He looked down at the tattered clothes that only just covered him. "I'll come…"

There were no more words between them as the four stole out using a key Sadiq had stolen from the guard. They ran to a window at the end of the corridor he had been gagged and bound in. He shivered at the memories.

When they were at the window, Gupter pulled out a rope from a nearby wicker basket and tied it tightly to a heavy bronze statue.

And then one by one, they free fell down the wall of the palace, which was technically the sphinx. Because he was too weak, he rode on Sadiq's back, clinging to the Turk as the ground came ever closer. He screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn't panic and fall to his death.

But then all of a sudden there was a hearty laughter and he was pulled off of Sadiq's back. He went to scream but there was a warm hand on his mouth and it muffled his sobs.

But then his feet were set on solid ground. He opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times and apologized for being so silly.

Heracles giggled, smiling for the first time he had met him. He looked somewhat cute as he blushed and his after-giggle expression reminded him somewhat of a strong young lion… or some other great cat in well content.

"What is your name…?" The Greek asked.

"Um… Tino… My names Tino… I was taken from my home in Finland."

"Alright Tino…" Sadiq smiled and patted him on the back. "Are you up for an adventure…?"

"If it gets me out of here then…" Tino took a step forward but collapsed onto his knees and threw up. "Ugh… What's wrong with me…?" He whimpered and wiped the bile from the back of his mouth with a groan.

"It must be the trauma catching up to you…" Gupter said. "We can't take you with us if you are unwell… you won't survive the journey across the Sahara."

"But… I…"

"Don't worry." Heracles smiled and held out his hand. "We know of someone who harbors fugitives skillfully. Her name is Katuyasha. She will house you and clothe you and feed you until we send someone to collect you once you are well."

Tino stiffened for a moment before relaxing with a yawn and nod and took Heracles' hand. When he was on his feet, Sadiq scooped him up in his arms and before he could say anything, he was drifting off to sleep.

When he woke up, he was in a soft bed and being served fruit for breakfast by a tearful woman. Gupter, Sadiq and Heracles had already left. They said that within the year they would send someone to collect him and bring him to the Shadow King before he could make his way home to Finland.

The plan was good. The next couple of days while he had been in bed had been rough, a couple of palace guards had charged in on him. If it weren't for Katuyasha running in and saying that he was her son, visiting from the north, then he would have been dragged back to the palace and sentenced to death.

So for eleven and a half months he had been claiming to be the crying lady's son. And he was really excited on this particularly hot day because he had received a note the previous week, notifying him that his escorts to the Shadow King were arriving on this day to take him.

Half of the money he had saved, was to pay the men for their trouble, even though Gupter had assured him in plain hieroglyph that they didn't care for money, and the other half would be going to Miss Katuyasha, for her efforts for him.

And it was when he was pouring broth with a big hospitable smile that he immediately picked out the two who had come to take him away.

He had been told that the one in charge was the taller one with blonde hair and blue eyes. Ludwig Weilderschmidt. He was the younger brother by a year but highly responsible and would take care of him well. Apparently he was a strategist.

The second Weilderschmidt brother was Gilbert. He had white hair and bloody red and was shorter than his younger sibling. He was a bit reckless but very trust worthy and hated failing at things because according to him, it was so not awesome to fail. Unless it was EPIC fail in which there is a kick ass battle and tons of bloodshed.

And despite Ludwig's stiff exterior and Gilbert's obnoxiousness, both brother's were really nice and wouldn't dare hurt him or touch him in a way that he wasn't comfortable with.

He smiled and waved when he saw the two Germans approach. For the start of the day, they would be acting as customers, checking the place out. For the second half of the day they would all go back to Katuyasha's house and spend the night there before rising before the city in the early pre-dawn and leaving, beginning a three day trek across the Sahara to an oasis where there would be a caravan of camels waiting with his three distant friends to take him on an old dock forgotten by the world where they would board a small ship and sail for England. There he would meet the Shadow King, rest and make his way home to Finland.

"How you going… Tino? Is it…?"

Tino nodded as the albino sat on a stool attached to his booth. Ludwig sat beside him, assessing their surroundings.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink? You must have had a long journey…" The Fin smiled and they both went to answer when there was a whistling sound and an arrow landed in the wood of the booth's counter top, perfectly between the two brothers.

All three looked up to the roof tops where they were met with a cold gaze. Approaching them on their left was a guy with a Gilbert style grin, wielding a large axe and on their right was a small male with platinum hair and a clip holding back his fringe.

He was wearing something similar to knuckle busters, except long thin sharp blades protruded from his knuckles.

"How are we going to get out of this one bruder…?" Gilbert grinned and the blonde mimicked the expression.

They were prepared for their fate.

:::

_Yeeeah… You love me and I know it… better yet, you know it too…. Bahahahahaha! _

_Um, so I guess that is the second chapter. Things get a little longer from here… hopefully…_

_Luvluv…! _

_~~~PM~~~ _

_Oh, PS, Sweden's "wife and child" that I murdered in the first chapter are just two randoms. So sorry if that was confusing. _


	3. Since U Been Gone

_Sosososososososooooo sorry that this is late! ;;n;; I haven't had access to the internet recently… ;;n;; Fuck my life… I spent the whole time playing video games like dynasty warriors and Jak3 to pass the time…_

_Third chapter and all I can say is… Love me love me! You know you do if you are still reading this crap. Um… yeah…_

_Warning:__ Fight scene, Extremely vulgar language from the Awesome one, Awesome loses and kidnapping… If this offends you, then suck it. I'm happy today and have been watching AWESOME movies all set in Japan like, The Hunted. FFFFF*cking brilliant. Gotta love Japan! Japan and… all it's Awesomess_

_Oh… yes… I do have a song at the start of every chapter… sometimes it will relate to the plot of that chapter and other times it will just be there because I say so._

_And I just realized that I put the Sahara right next to Giza and the sphinx… Major geographical error… so my excuse is… there was a huge drought sandstorm thingy that expanded the Sahara to that point… . It's my story… so live with it. And I just thought I'd point that out before a reviewer did and that would make me feel stupid… so just letting you guys know that I am not stupid, just suffering clerical error. 3_

_Since U Been Gone__ ~ Kelly Clarkson_

_Here's the thing_

_We started out friends_

_It was cool but it was all pretend_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Since you been gone_

_Dedicated_

_You took the time_

_Wasn't long till I called you mine_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Since you been gone_

_An all you'd ever hear me say_

_Is how I picture me with you_

_That's all you'd ever hear me say_

_But since you been gone_

_I can breathe for the first time_

_I'm so moving on_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Thanks to you_

_Now I get_

_What I want_

_How can I put it_

_You put me on_

_I even fell for that stupid love song_

_Yeah, yeah_

_Since you been gone_

_How come I'd never hear you say_

_I just wanna be with you_

_Guess you never felt that way_

_You had your chance_

_You blew it_

_Out of sight_

_Out of mind_

_Shut your mouth I just can't take it_

_Again, and again, and again, and again!_

:::

As soon as reality seemed to catch up, Tino found himself being pushed down behind his stall. Civilians were running around screaming and crying for the palace guard.

And then he heard the noise of clashing metal and thumps as hand blows were laid on each other. But there wasn't the sound of tearing flesh or a cry of pain that indicated the sort.

The Fin couldn't help himself. He just had to peek around the splintering wood of his stall to see what was going on. And so he gripped the edge lightly, and poked his head out the side of his stall, low to the ground so he wouldn't be noticed.

Ludwig had procured a sword with carvings of ancient and forgotten runes up and down the blade. He was holding off the axe wielder who still kept the fool hardy grin across his Scandinavian features.

Gilbert was dodging the platinum blonde's blades, which was hard as he couldn't simply knock them out of the way and had to dodge mere punches and swipes. This would have been embarrassing in his books to be beaten by such a technique.

And so, to Tino's surprise, the albino seemed to be sending below the belt jibes and insults at the placid platinum blonde, as if to make him lose his temper which would make him lose any technique which he held. And even though it looked dismal in weaponry choices, he seemed to deliver his blows as if in a dance.

He spun down low so he was crouching with his stomach inches from the ground and his midnight blue cloak still moving with the momentum of such a smooth fluid movement, and he swiped out with his left hand and set of blades, tearing through the pants and skin of Gilbert's right lower calf.

The albino cried out and sneered, stepping back.

"You little mother fucker! Where'd you get that clip from bitch? Your mommy…?"

The feminine man sneered ten times worse than Gilbert ever could and he threw his blades aside, swinging punches at the albino in a fit of anger, losing all grace he had had and becoming sloppy. Gilbert had hit the right nerve it seemed and he was fighting in his own genre now.

He swung back the punches double time with double the amount of force and ended up holding the smaller man up against a wall with his arm pressed against his throat, still hitting punches at his face and stomach. Tino saw a little trail of blood run down his chin, which painted Gilbert's knuckles and yet the platinum haired man never gave up his own onslaught.

He had ceased punching and was now kicking at Gilbert and clawing at his face.

"You fight like a girl." Gilbert grinned maliciously and swung a particularly hard punch at his face. He fell limp and the albino dropped him to the ground. "Be thankful I don't like killing unless I have to bitch." But the other male was already unconscious and slumped against the wall awkwardly.

:::

Still at his vantage atop the roof, Berwald saw the Norwegian fall to the ground, slumped against the wall. Looking to the other fight, he saw that Mathias wanted to yell something but had no name so remained silent, still with his axe being pushed back, step by step he was being forced into a corner where he would be trapped and forced to surrender or die.

The Swede would have shot the blonde that pushed him back and ended this all sooner, but he knew he would get a mouthful from Mathias later.

Not to mention that he was not without honor and would not shoot someone who had their back faced to him. The same would have happened if he had shot the albino man full of arrows to save the nameless man from him. They all liked to hold their own and keep their pride. So he remained the neutral bystander until given the order to shoot.

But at the same time he couldn't do nothing. So he had to wait and monitor things closely.

And then a strange conversation struck up that would alter the Swede's opinion and affect his future beyond what he could imagine.

"Why do you fight so hard!" The tall blonde yelled at Mathias with a German accent.

"Because I can't let followers of the Shadow King win! That would be failure and bring the world closer to darkness!" Mathias yelled back, grinding his teeth together as his back was pressed into a tight corner.

"Why are you so sure he's evil!"

"Because… Because he kills families and burns villages! That's what he does! HE'S EVIL!"

And then almost quietly, the large German spoke, Berwald only just catching what he had to say.

"You haven't even met him… you couldn't be more wrong about them… Your savior is the one ruining this world. He calls for slaves and orders executions if one of you fail… THAT is why you fight so hard."

"What…? I… How the hell would you know you sick son of a bitch!" Mathias basically screamed the words at him.

But Berwald heard nothing else said. He sat there in thought. And now that he came to think of it… If a troupe of soldiers did fail horribly, the Savior had them… wait… he couldn't really quite remember… he tried to recall all the executions he had seen and the only ones he could recall was of prisoners. And… he had seen this blonde and the albino in the execution line. But he was pretty sure he'd seen them somewhere else before it…

But before he could so much as recall, his mind told him to snap back to reality and he did, just in time to see Mathias slump like his lover against the wall, unconscious. It appeared he hadn't listened to any of the words said by the blonde German. His axe clattered to the ground beside him and the blonde walked away.

He walked BACK to the broth stall and helped a young boy… maybe in his late teens, out from behind it. Were they protecting him…? Were they here to take him somewhere…?

And then the palace guard arrived and the blond and the albino had to turn away from the boy and forget about him to deal with this new obstacle. And they looked like they wouldn't be able to hold of twenty to one each…

And Berwald continued to observe. HE knocked an arrow into his bow and aimed it at the blonde… He had been on the execution line which meant he was to die.

But then the albino was calling out to HIM!

"You! Tall dark and gruesome! Get the boy out! Get him out now!"

Why would he trust him? One who had obviously shot at them earlier and was preparing to do so again. It appeared no one else had heard the albino speak as the fighting assumed without delay.

One of the guards made their way over to the boy that had been hiding behind the stall and pointed his sword at him, muttering something about him being the third of the party.

Berwald glared as usual and continued to observe the chaos for now.

:::

Tino felt the tip of the blade press to his throat and he closed his eyes tightly shut, praying for the last time before being sent to the afterlife. He was prepared for death when the blade fell away from his throat, scratching his chin slightly and he opened his eyes one at a time to see the once offending soldier at his feet with an arrow through his temples.

Fear wracked his body and he turned to flee when he walked straight into someone and he fell backwards, landing on his ass.

He flinched and looked up to see the same icy glare that belonged to the person who had shot the arrow at his booth. By the midnight blue cloak he wore and the black leather vest with a white shirt underneath, he knew that he was an officer for the Savior.

"Traitor!"

Tino looked to the group of soldiers that were assaulting Ludwig and Gilbert and now it seemed, were charging for this stranger in front of him. Had he been the one to shoot the soldier that wanted to kill him?

But before any questions could be asked he was hoisted up off the ground and slung over this stranger's shoulder and then he was running.

Tino saw Ludwig and Gilbert one last time before he was taken around the corner and they disappeared from view.

The tall scary stranger carried him as he ran and quite soon he found that they were leaving the city behind and were running straight into the desert. Was this guy an idiot? Was he lost? The desert was certain death if you didn't know what way to go.

And then the situation dawned on the Fin and for all his fear he began pounding at the other's back and kicking his legs to be difficult.

"Let go of me! Kidnapping is illegal! You're breaking the law! PUT ME DOWN!" Tino kept yelling and kicking. "I have to go back and help Ludwig and Gilbert! You can't kidnap people in the middle of a fight!"

And then to the Fin's surprise he was dumped on the ground with a thump and his kidnapper stood tall and towering above him.

Tino suddenly felt as afraid as he had been on the day he had been passed around the slave's quarters. The look on the other's face was so terrifying and dominant, it was like instinct to know what he wanted. He had only kidnapped him to take him out to the desert where no one would hear him or save him and then he would…

Tino knew how it worked. Even if it had been almost a complete year. Do as told or be hurt.

He relaxed and lay submissively before the taller male, wanting it to be over with.

"W't 're y' d'in'?"

Tino knew that accent immediately. The stranger was Swedish. His village in Finland had had many Swede's pass through and he had grown accustomed to the heavy accent.

"I… I'm giving in… Isn't that what you want…?"

The other shook his head.

"Th'y w're g'nna k'll y'."

His glare deepened at the other's confused expression and he crouched down, drawing words into the orange sand.

_They were going to kill you. The albino told me to take you out of there. _

"Oh… Gilbert… So… You turned sides for me…? Because you thought I was going to die…?"

_I'm not on any side._

"Well what are you doing then…?"

_I don't know what I'm doing._

Tino was silent for a moment before frowning at the other.

"You have to take me back. I'm not leaving Gilbert and Ludwig alone to fight that battle. It's because of me that they're in this mess."

_I'm not letting you go back there._

"You can't tell me what to do."

The Swede frowned and knocked an arrow into his bow, pointing it at Tino.

"ALRIGHT! Gah! Don't point it at me!"

He lowered the weapon and wiped the writing out of the sand.

"N'me'?"

"Um… T-Tino…"

_Berwald._

:::

"Dammit!" Mathias slammed his fist down on the table. "Those two Germans got away AND the person they were after. And now Berwald has changed sides."

"Calm down. As he says all the time, he isn't on any side. He is a neutral character in all of this." The Norwegian said, sitting beside him and tending to both of their wounds which was a great relief that they were all only minor cuts and bruises.

"But he shouldn't be neutral! He wears our uniform. He trains with us. He even took the first strike against the Germans today. Why the Fuck would he take the guy they were after and run into the desert…? He'll die in there and so will that boy."

"Do you want them to die…?"

Mathias sighed and put his head in the other's lap for comfort. "… No… I don't want Berwald to die… He's our friend and he hasn't even come to terms with what the Shadow King did to his wife and kid… He needs revenge on them before he'll smile or cry for them… I just… don't know what he's doing… I can never understand that guys motive."

"Well he is pretty intelligent…" Mathias looked up at his Norwegian lover, with a frown of confusion on his face. "… Maybe, just maybe… He hasn't changed sides… Maybe he is after his revenge… Maybe he's doing what he does to get closer to the Shadow King and take him out… it is really the only opportunity that has ever presented itself to us… He's taking initiative and if this boy is important to the Shadow King, the reason he sent the two Germans to retrieve him, then he'll be the perfect ticket into the enemy lines."

There was a moment of silence before a grin lit up the Dane's face and he chuckled. "The cheeky bugger found a way in!"

:::

Katuyasha paced her house. Ludwig and Gilbert sitting with grim expressions on her lounge chair.

"How could you lose Tino… I can't believe it… after so long he really has become my son… And you lost him…" She wiped the bitter tears out of her eyes and continued her pacing.

"We didn't lose him…" Gilbert said. "He was taken into the Sahara by the third party member of the Savior's troupe."

Katuyasha let out a sorrowful wail. "That's even worse! He'll be executed!"

"Not necessarily Katuyasha…" Ludwig said, clasping his hands together. "The ran into the SAHARA… We know that better than anyone… When the city is asleep tonight we will bypass the guard by traveling over the rooftops and make our way to the oasis… It should only take two or three days to make it and then from there we will be free to send out a search party compromising of us, Sadiq, Gupter and your brother. Tino has enough knowledge on how to survive in the desert for at least a couple of days Katuyasha."

The tearful woman sighed before nodding and sitting in her wicker chair.

"If you say so Mr. Ludwig."

:::

Tino stared at the small fire that had been lit to keep him warm. The other, Berwald, had left him there and he had no idea if he'd return and if he did, would he bring those other two people with him and the palace guard.

He could just sneak away now and douse the fire in sand before so the other had no beacon to guide him back.

The guards had seen him as an enemy so he couldn't return to the city if he wanted to. His best chance was to make his way to the oasis.

He had three days to make it there. He should be able to do it as he did know how to travel in the desert when there were no provisions available.

Walk by night, sleep by day. Covered in a cloak or blanket to keep the sun at bay.

But he didn't have a traveling cloak to keep him warm at night or shaded in the day. So he would either freeze or burn to death.

And then his mind returned to the nagging thought, maybe it would be best if he cooperated with Berwald. If he saw that there was any threat to his life by staying with the glaring Swede, then he could always flee and lose them in the dunes.

A leather bag was dumped next to him in the sand and he jumped out of his thoughts and let out a small yelp. He looked up to see that the subject of his thoughts had returned, as terrifying as ever with the same constant glare set in his face.

"What… What's in the bag…?" Tino asked, trying to contain the shaking of his breath and wavering of his voice as Berwald sat on the other side of the fire and stirred the base of the burning ash with an arrow to keep the flame alive.

"S' f'r y' s'lf."

Tino nodded and pulled the bag closer to himself, popping the little wooden toggle out of the loop and lifting the cracked leather flap up to see inside.

There were two cantinas that were obviously filled with water when he picked them up because he could hear it moving around inside the metal container. And then there was dried meat wrapped in clothe. They were provisions. But not near enough to last a three day trek across the Sahara.

"Um… there… there aren't enough to last more than a day…"

"I kn'w. Th'r's a b'se n't f'r fr'm h're."

"… Alright then…" Tino nodded and put the bag aside, closing it once more. He just hoped that base wasn't a place loaded with the Savior's Soldiers or he was dead. And then a question popped to mind. "Um… Berwald? Do you know your way around the Sahara well…? Have you traveled it before?"

The Swede shook his head sending relief AND dismay Tino's way, before the taller blonde wrote in the sand again.

_I was told its north from the city so we'll leave shortly and use the moon as a guide. Rest at dawn and we'll be there by noon. _

:::

He looked out the window, his chin resting on the back of his hand in a bored posture.

He was thinking about cleaning himself up and heading to bed when there was a bird's call and a black eagle flew through the window, landing on the back of a chair where it began to preen its feathers.

"Huh…" He stood and walked over to it, holding out his arm. The eagle eyed him before hopping onto his arm. Thank god he wore leather cuffs or his arms would be in ribbons. "if you're here I guess you have a message from Gilbert and Ludwig."

The bird did nothing but stare at him with gold eyes and a slight cock of its head. He smiled and shook his head before unclipping the little roll of paper that was attached to its leg. He unfurled it and read it.

_We were attacked. Almost lost Tino but we think one of the Savior's troops has deserted because he's taken Tino into the desert. We'll go to the oasis and send out a search party for them. And whether or not he wants it, we're bringing the Swede back. _

The writing was rushed and messy, which only clarified it as Gilbert.

The eagle nipped his finger at the sudden lack of attention.

"Ow! Bloody bird… Gilbert shouldn't have spoiled you so much when you were a chick." The eagle simply cocked it's head to one side and gave him an innocent look, assuming birds could give off expression. Maybe it was because its master had fed it beer when it hatched that it thought it was human.

He shook his head, ridding himself of these thoughts and quickly scribbled a note, tying it to the eagle's leg and it was off and out the window. He smiled as he watched it disappear into the inky sky, save for the silver outline produced via the moon light.

"Things are going to get a little more interesting around here." He mused.

"Hey Arthur!" Another blonde poked his head through the door. "When are you coming to bed?"

"Soon you git! You ruined my chapter ending!" He pouted and the other male laughed.

"Whatever Artie."

:::

_Yes… I had to put that last bit in… Don't ask me why… I'm tired and brain dead and have been cut off from the internet. I DON"T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!_

_._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and still reading if you didn't get bored with the wait for this chapter. I really appreciate it. And can anyone tell me how to view the hits for a story? I'm a little befuddled._

_~~~PM~~~_


	4. You Found Me

_Right, fourth chapter… WHOO! I am so happy for those that are still reading. 3 You get lots of love. And because it is the fourth, the 'Savior' will be appearing slightly in the next chapter. Yay! A little hint to may they who be. _

_Ok… I think I should warn you all… that this isn't a happy story. A lot of gore, character death, violence, mutilation, blood shed… suggested rape and highly implicated rape too… thought I should mention that minor detail…_

_And if I said that there were no more domesticated animals… I lied. There are a few horses and oxen and stuffs. And then there's Prussia's eagle/Gilbird. _

_Oh… and this chapter isn't focused on the main-main characters too much. I just felt like writing this one… And there is a mega time jump too. So, I apologize for any confusion that may occur. Oh, and this character hasn't been introduced to the story yet, so sorry for throwing his past at you like this… . Even though I partly did it in the first two chapters anyway. I'm sorry, ok. And this character gets nearly a whole chapter to themselves because I love them to squishy!_

_But anyway… I will do a few of these specific character chapters, but not for everyone unless someone asks to just have one for their favorite character put in, but otherwise I'll just do the ones that contribute to the main story. So don't say that I'm just writing crap and tell me to get back to the main storyline because this is it. :D _

_You Found Me__: Kelly Clarkson_

_Is this a dream_

_If it is_

_Please don't wake me from this high_

_I've become_

_Comfortably numb_

_Until you opened up my eyes_

_To what's it's like_

_When everything's right_

_Oh I can't believe_

_You found me_

_When no one else was looking_

_How did you know just where I would be_

_Yeah you broke through all of my confusion_

_The ups and the downs and you still didn't leave_

_I guess you saw what nobody could see_

_You found me_

_So here we are _

_That's pretty far_

_When you think of where we've been _

_No going back_

_I'm fading out_

_All that has faded me within _

_You're by my side_

_Now everything's fine_

_I can believe_

_You found me_

_When no one else was looking_

_How did you know just where I would be_

_Yeah you broke through all of my confusion_

_The ups and the downs and you still didn't leave_

_I guess that you saw what nobody could see _

_The good and the bad and the things in between_

_You found me_

_PS~! This chapter is frustratingly long. But I just had more than I thought to put in. I actually only put in less than half of what my brain conspired. So no whining and just read it. And Finally, all the character chapters I DO do will be long. But eventually the normal chapters will be the same or longer. _

:::

_**IVAN**_

Normal five year olds weren't made to do this work. To toil in the fields blizzard or no blizzard until the skin on their fingers started to split and their lips crack. And what they grew they received none of as the orphanage sent it away to feed the fat nobles who received food from every possible corner of the country.

But he was happy and to him his life was bliss. Because he still had his twelve year old sister to look out for him and sneak him food that she risked her life to get, and his two year old sister who gave HIM something to protect and both his sisters gave him purpose. And they were probably the most happy and unscathed children at the orphanage.

Though sometimes, when no one was looking, he would cry for his sisters. Because his elder sister, Katuyasha, was raised in gentle ways and the bitter work they did now was making her hard and with only slight chance that she would smile during the day.

At night time after a dismal supper that to the orphans seemed a wholesome meal, she would be taken away and would not return for many hours, sometimes not until the next morning, where the owner of the orphanage would carry her unconscious, back to her bed.

He wouldn't find out why for many years, that would seem as only days.

Late one night as he was seven now and cuddled up with his four year old sister to keep her warm, Natalia, Katuyasha now at fourteen shook him awake gently and slipped him some food that he hid under his pillow for morning. Even though he was half asleep, he promptly noticed the limp she tried to conceal and she blushed with tears on her cheeks as he stared at her leg.

"I have to leave Vanya… I can't take it here anymore… Natalia is too young… but when she is your age, please run away as well and head for the border. I'm running south to where it is warm and I will meet you at the border on your ninth birthday alright?"

Ivan nodded, contemplating it all in his young mind. "Why are you leaving…?"

"I want to make a better life for us _dorogoi_ … And I can't do it here." (_dear_) She smiled kindly at him, wiping his eyes of the tears that had begun to fall and in time would hold within a wounded heart. But for now they fell silently and she dried them as a mother would. Biting her bottom lip, she kissed Ivan and the sleeping Natalia on their foreheads one last time before she stood up and turned quickly to stop herself from going back on her plan and she snuck out of the orphanage, stole a plough horse from the stables and fled the orphanage and the country.

The next few years passed by as much the same as they usually would. Natalia grew more beautiful everyday and was one of the few rare beautiful children chosen to learn music and how to read and write. That was how Katuyasha and Ivan had begun their lives at the orphanage and were fed hot meals that filled the plate. That was until they expressed their strength and durability to the environment and were put to work immediately. Ivan whispered to Natalia before she was moved out of the cramped children's quarters to her own room, to not show them that she was as durable as her siblings so she could escape the hardships.

She did as she was told and now it was she that snuck food to him though more than Katuyasha ever could have and it was much more good for him than cold gruel that within the last year before his ninth birthday, he grew much more than the working orphans ever did, and was soon the tallest child there of his age. Around this time he told Natalia of their escape plan and she all too readily agreed. She had the means of easily obtaining provisions and jackets and blankets, and Ivan was strong enough to defend them from anyone that tried to stop them and guide the new plough horse from the stable no matter how stubborn and flee to the border.

It so happened that on the eve of their escape, as Natalia worked at embroidery with the rest of the 'beautiful' children, keeping an eye on her brother as he worked in the field, helping harvest the wheat, barley and flax, that a stranger rode in on a stormy grey stallion and a wagon being pulled by another less noble horse.

Ivan shivered as he rode past, staring down at the boy with a cold eye. He rode up to the door of the orphanage and dismounted the stallion, walking inside after being greeted by the owner of the orphanage. Ivan had no idea who he was and what he was there for, but he didn't intend to find out. So he turned back to tying a bundle of wheat. He was in a good mood today. The sun was peaking out from behind the clouds and behind the children's quarters he had found a sunflower. Small and frozen before given time to grow, but a sunflower none the less, which he had hidden under his bed to take with them to the border.

He couldn't wait to leave and see his sister again. Katuyasha would be sixteen now. Maybe she had found a husband and they would be a big family somewhere nice and warm and sunny. All he knew was farming so maybe he could farm for work and sell the produce fairly. Work off what he knew and make a life from it. Natalia would be able to put her talents to use. Maybe she would become a famous violinist. Or make dresses for wealthy women. She was terribly good at both these things.

These were the hopes of a boy who would be nine in a week. And that was how life should have been.

/

"So you are saying you want to adopt a child, sir?" The owner of the orphanage, to give him a name of no meaning as he is but a faceless man in this story, Vassili, asked the stranger who had yet to share his name.

"Da… That is what you are able to do at an orphanage?"

"Uh… da… The children outside are hard workers and feed the country… but the children we keep indoors are well educated and ready to be taken into a good home…"

"… Show them to me…"

Vassili gave a curt nod before leading the stranger to the large room, that had once been a ballroom now giant multi-purpose classroom, with only eleven children left to it, each with their own tutor.

The small portly man, Vassili, showed the taller, more masculine man, around, introducing each child to him. But he shook his head and pointed out their flaws. He needed someone perfect. At this, Vassili chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Our most talented and gifted orphan, Natalia. I regret to let her go as even the empress has taken a liking to her when she came last time on a visit."

The nameless man looked at Natalia and she narrowed her eyes, glaring back at him. They stayed that way, gaze locked for lord knows how log before he broke it and she kept glaring.

"Nyet… She is too stubborn and bred to be pampered. Let the empress have her. I need a child who is hardy and can stand many months outside in the winter blizzards."

"… Well… we have three working children that stood outside in the winter blizzards last year to cover and hold down the crops."

"Excellent. I will pay three hundred pieces of gold for your most hardy and durable child."

"Um… yes sir… Please follow me." They walked away and Natalia seethed inside. That was adoption… like paying for cattle. Warning bells began to ring faintly, but before they could get louder and bring her to attention on what was going to happen, she was called back to work by her tutor. She was half way through her third line of writing out the principles and laws of the new emperor's family, when something in her mind clicked and she could hear nothing but the loud chiming of the bells in her head, like that off a monastery.

She threw aside her ink and quill, staining the poor tutor's dress and ran after Vassili and this stranger.

/

"Ivan… come here please…"

Ivan looked up from the pile of wheat bundles he had been stacking with another faceless character that was helping him. Vassili was calling him to the door of the orphanage. He was in awe when he stepped in as he hadn't been inside the actual building since he was a little child. It had changed so much, with fresh sunflowers in old antique vases, depicting bears dancing and white swans with crowns on their heads, wings spread mid flight.

So pretty, he thought. But his attention was called aside when the doctor that overlooked all the ailments at the orphanage pulled him aside roughly and he winced. In the corner of the room stood the stranger who had stared him down and was doing so again. He looked away.

The doctor was squeezing his calf muscles and arms, moving them around to flex them and test their resistance. He pressed his hands against his stomach to see if it was firm with muscle as it was.

Satisfied, the doctor stood up and he was made to open his mouth to look at his teeth and oral hygiene. He used a mirror to shine light into his eyes and test the pupil dilation and did the same to see if inside his ears were clean.

He may have been a working orphan, but he kept himself well. Asides from being a little dirty from the work already done that day, Ivan was in perfect condition. Physically and hygienically.

"What's going on?" He asked as any curious and slightly scared child would.

Vassili put on a plastic smile, something he had only ever seen when he had asked him about Katuyasha when he had returned her to her bed all those times.

"Go upstairs and take a bath and change into some new clothes Ivan."

He didn't have a choice. The doctor and his assistant had already taken him by the arms and were leading him up the stairs to the bathroom.

Just as the disappeared up top, Natalia ran into the room with a fierce expression on her face. She stormed over to Vassili and pointed her finger at him.

"You're not taking my brother away from me." She hissed. Vassili didn't want to hurt Natalia, especially as the empress was looking to adopt her for lack of being able to have her own child. So he called one of the servants over and a guard and they went to take her back to her lessons.

"NYET! You won't take Vanya from me!" She started screaming as the guard picked her up.

"Take her to her room." Vassili said. "She can eat and take her lessons there until she learns to behave and not raise her voice."

The guard and servant did as told. And she was carried screaming out of the room. Still too small at seven years old to do anything but struggle and scream. And when they locked her in her room her screams turned to tears and she stopped hitting the door.

As she cried, she made a small prayer for her brother's safety and that he would somehow escape and make it to the border and to their sister, also taking a vow that she would find them when she was old enough and big enough and that she would pray for her beloved brother who had cared for her so much, she would pray for him every night.

/

Clean and in new clean clothes, Ivan wrinkled his nose, feeling stiff and odd in the different clothing. He wondered what all this was for. He was a worker. Workers did not get clean clothes. Workers did not get hot baths with fragrances from the east. And workers most definitely did not get doctors check ups out of the blue. That was on their birthdays and Christmas only. That was their present. And even then it was only a half a check up.

But when he was dry and dressed, the doctor and his assistant lead him back downstairs where the stranger handed a bag of something that chinked noisily to Vassili. He wanted to ask what was going on again… but the stranger looked down at him and… and… and SMILED. But it wasn't friendly. It was chilling. Ivan preferred the blizzards to this.

Vassili looked to him and smiled plastically again.

"Would you please take Ivan to our customer's wagon…?"

Ivan got it immediately. He wanted to scream and cry but he couldn't. He couldn't stop the doctor and assistant from walking him outside, where all the orphans stopped work to stare at his frightened face. He couldn't stop them pushing him into the back of the wagon and closing the door behind him.

He was shaking uncontrollably. This couldn't be happening. He was escaping with his sister the next night. They would be going somewhere warm. They would be leaving everything cold behind. He couldn't see anything going on because of the large roof pf linen and furs that darken everything and kept the warmth inside. And underneath all the blankets and cushions, save for a few pots and crates at the opposite end to the doors, the whole floor was basically one big mattress. It was odd but he couldn't think about it as he lost balance on the plush cushioning under him as the wagon started moving.

Now he really wanted to scream, but his voice had fallen silent. He wanted to cry but his eyes were dry. The only way he could show how scared he was, was through all the shivers that wracked his body, despite being in the warmest place he has ever seen. He was scared of the man who he now belonged to.

Something caught his eye as the wagon bounced around and he crawled over to it, pulling it out of the pot that had held it. It was a pipe. Natalia had showed him pictures from one of the books she had to learn from. She read it to him so he could learn too, because he couldn't read or write, and he had learnt that it was used to get water. It pulled it up from more pipes under ground.

Using it as a link to what he was leaving behind, his sister, he clung to it and pressed himself into the corner. As he sat there he thought.

Maybe this strange man was only mean looking because he was awkward around people. Like in the stories he heard of people that were supposedly scary but they found children and young teens on the side of the road and took them on adventures and taught them how to fight and so many other things and they became real fathers to the children they taught and loved them more than anything.

These childish hopes sent Ivan into dreams where the world was good. The stranger worked him hard like in the stories, but he really cared for him and they ate hot borscht by the fire. They went back for Natalia and Katuyasha found them and they lived to call this man father.

But as we all know, childish hopes and dreams are always dashed by heartless reality.

The wagon came to a sudden halt, jolting Ivan awake. He clutched the pipe to his chest when he heard the heavy sound of boots crunching down on the snow.

The locks on the other side of the wagon doors were being undone. He wanted to smile and impress this stranger… but he just couldn't. The door opened and he saw the night sky and stars outside. The stranger stepped into the wagon and closed the doors before sitting down and taking his boots off. Silence.

Ivan was scared of what he would do… but he came across the thought that the wagon was his home and it was night time. He would be following his usual times and going to sleep. And though he was hungry, he didn't say anything.

Now that he was able to get a close look at this man, he saw he had black hair with a rough black goatee and close to the skin beard. His clothes were patchy and his skin worn and ageing.

Ivan guessed he was probably forty to fifty. He kept observing him until he was surprised out of his thoughts by being spoken to.

"When is your ninth birthday?" He asked, staring at him coldly.

"… I… um… In seven days from now…"

"I see… Ivan is it…?"

He nodded.

"… Come here…"

Ivan hesitated.

"Come here now boy!"

Ivan flinched and crawled over, still holding the pipe.

Before he knew what was happening, fingers were digging into his cheeks as the stranger held his face up. His heart hammered in his chest as his mind told him to do anything to get away. But he was frozen on the spot, eyes wide with fear. Even his shaking had stopped.

"Hm…? You seem to be holding my pipe pretty tight there…"

He took the pipe away from him and smiled before throwing Ivan on his stomach. He tried to scramble away and make it to the door. Maybe he could lock him inside and escape.

But he was pulled back down by a cold hand at his heel. He cried out his voice finally working and a few scattered tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Don't bother… no one will hear you…"

He didn't know why, but Ivan clamped his mouth shut and refused to make anymore noise. But the tears did not cease. He felt his pants being removed and he froze again. What the hell was this man going to do…?

He felt the man raise him onto his knees, but keeping his head down on the blanket.

"If you like this pipe so much… then I want to give it to you as a gift."

There was a great pain and Ivan felt like he was being torn in half as the pipe was pushed into him. His mouth hung open mid scream, yet he could make no noise.

It went in as far as his body would allow it to before the man pulled it back out and then it went back in. In, out, in, out. A perfect rhythm was established and Ivan cried for the last time.

/

He was told to call the man General Winter. And he did. He received the pipe every night until his tenth birthday. On that night, the cold metal cylinder was disregarded and was replaced with something far worse that left him filled with a foreign substance and the moans of the older man ringing in his ears.

He always passed out after he was abused. But he became so used to it that he waited for it everyday. He was fed well and still grew, his body never diminishing, only growing stronger for all the sitting around he did.

He never saw the daytime sky. Just a glimpse of the night time sky when Winter would climb in and take him.

Now it is the day of his twelfth birthday. He is lying on his back, staring at the furs and linen that shake with the movement of the wagon. He is only wearing his brown leather pants because of the heat. They are traveling through one of the Russian deserts. He can see the light peeking through the cracks in the ceiling.

He has a smile because this is all he knows now. He doesn't remember the orphanage. But he can faintly remember his sisters. Not their names, just them. And his sunflower. His one little sunflower that was dead before it lived. But it was still beautiful to him. Sometimes, when the General would actually talk with him before taking him, he asked him about what he liked and about anything he could remember.

He probably knew more about the twelve year old Ivan than he did.

But he had mentioned the sunflower. How it had made him happy. Winter was not patient… and before Ivan finished his sentence he was being used again. But the next morning, when he woke to the moving wagon and a plate of breakfast, he saw that Winter had also pulled out one of the crates and opened it.

During tough blizzards, when even the General couldn't stay outside, he had sat inside and used the spare time to teach Ivan to read. The day time was the best time for Ivan. The time when the General actually smiled with a sparkle in his eye. He'd been taught how to fix his clothes and make new ones, to tie knots and handle rope, to keep the wagon's roof in one piece from the inside while Winter kept it from the outside and even how to handle a knife.

But on this open crate, there was a note with scribbled writing.

_Use these to make your sunflowers._

The crate was full of crepe paper and cellophane and pipe cleaners and other craft supplies, salvaged from a different time.

So Ivan had followed the note and with childish enthusiasm, spent the day making not only sunflowers, but other colorful flowers that would only exist in his mind. Then he'd put them all over the walls of the wagon and hung a big cellophane sun from the roof with cotton ball clouds in white, blue and green.

That night, the general had stepped inside the wagon and was in awe. Childish were the decorations, yes… but it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. In the middle of the mattress, Ivan was fast asleep with glue and paint dried out in his fingers and hair and he was covered in rainbow glitter so that when the General closed the doors and turned on the oil lamp, rainbows seemed to come off of the boy, completing the garden he had made.

The silver haired boy had stirred at the sound of Winter putting all the unused materials away and for the first time in a long time he had shied away.

The General had smiled his day time smile and he shook his head. "Not today."

Ivan had been confused and Winter beckoned him over. He crawled over warily and sat beside him with their backs against the wall as prompted. Then the General put an arm over his shoulder and told him what a wonderful master piece he had created. Now Ivan was really confused. He was acting the way a father would. The next day, for fear of this strange fatherly self, Winter set the routine back to normal. The chest and crates remained locked and Ivan was left to do nothing but stare at the roof of the wagon and the newly obtained decorations.

That evening, the General tied the horses to a tree as he did every night and stepped inside the wagon, intent on setting things back to normal.

But in the darkness, Ivan looked very much adult, all childishness faded as he sat waiting for what was to come.

And then the General thought… God, I'm making him relive my life… He was not the only one to endure it. It was a world wide cult. No one had a choice to live it. Taken in when they are orphans and trialed through horrid things until they become hard and cold. When their masters die, they wonder for five years before seeking a companion from an orphanage and the process is repeated.

But even if hundreds of other boys, one of the reasons he refused Natalia, were undergoing the same torment… He felt sorry for only Ivan. He couldn't do it anymore.

"Ivan…? Vanya…?" He used the pet name that he had heard that girl use for him the day he had bought him. At the name, Ivan snapped to attention and looked at him. "Enough of this, da? I'll not touch you again."

There was a horrid moment of awkward silence and he was surprised by the boy hugging him. "_Spasibo_…" (_Thankyou_) And he repeated that word continuously until he fell asleep in his arms.

Now he lays on his back, staring at his six month old garden. It is his twelfth birthday and his smile reaches his eyes. He can read and write fluently now with all the extra lessons he gets before bed.

General Winter has taken the role of father upon himself. And Ivan couldn't be happier. He sometimes gets sad when he thinks of what has happened in the past… but it cannot be helped. It is behind him and he is simply happy again.

The reason he is lying on his back and doing nothing today is because he has spent the first few hours of the day just drawing with charcoal on old paper with faded foreign words across them. The General likes to collect things from the past, from the time they called the "Modern Age". If it were anyone else but Ivan, he would have murdered them brutally for drawing on the papers with writing even he cannot read.

But he lets Ivan draw and make things and the inside of the wagon becomes more decorated and colorful by the day.

He still wasn't allowed outside, because Winter had told him that he had people watching him, and he couldn't let him outside for awhile. But he occasionally left the door open a crack if he had to get water, so Ivan could peek out and see the day, or he would bring him a real sunflower, giant and golden. Nothing made Ivan happier than sunflowers, but the first time he had gotten one, he was so excited that he fell asleep cuddling it and was completely distraught the next morning to find the petals wilting and the stem snapped in several places. Winter had only chuckled and told him that to keep flowers for as long as possible, they must be cared for. So he gone back to the field and planted a sunflower in one of the pots he kept things in. It had once been small but was now giant and Ivan watered it everyday and even made a re-sealable hole in the roof to open to give it sunlight.

General Winter liked waking up in the mornings to find Ivan had curled up against him in his sleep rather than distance himself. The nights were less… cold. And Ivan like waking up to a good morning and breakfast rather than being alone.

As he lay there, full of childishness, Ivan thought that even though some things were missing from his life, he like nothing more than being the General's son. Even if he had misused him, it was all forgiven in favor of family.

"It's a nice day today…" He whispered to himself and his sunflower. It was especially nice since Winter said he had a birthday present for him. He'd never gotten a present before, unless the pipe was counted, and was giddy with excitement.

But his thoughts were pulled away from this when the wagon came to a sudden halt and he sat up with a curious look. Being unable to see, he listened, slightly scared.

He heard another wagon coming to a halt beside theirs and there was a conversation between Winter and another man.

"Ah… General. I've been looking for you." This stranger's voice was heavily accented and came from… Romania… probably.

"… Why would you be looking for me?" Winter's voice was cautious.

"Well, they say you have a pupil. And you've had him for awhile now. He should be what twelve now…?"

The General's voice sounded like he had just clicked onto something and there was a hint of distress in there. "He's only just turned twelve today… he's not ready."

"Why, they have training one month before they turn twelve and that's when they begin… Or did you hap across a slow learner…?" The other voice was mocking now.

"No… He is a quick learner…"

"Then bring him out then!"

"I… I refuse it."

"General, if you refuse this, I will have the entire cult down on you."

Winter sighed as if accepting defeat.

"Alright… "

"Good… now prep him up and I'll get mine ready too."

Ivan heard the General dismount and the stranger copy like wise. There were two sets of footsteps, though one set fainter than the other and Ivan shielded his eyes when the doors were opened to let sunlight into the wagon.

Winter left it open to let his eyes adjust and he stepped in to sit beside the boy.

"What's going on…?" Ivan asked with a curious head tilt.

"I…" General Winter looked at the boy he had come to see as his son before petting his hair lightly as he spoke with a sigh. "You have to come outside now and meet someone else who was adopted like you."

"What's going to happen…?"

"… You have to fight…"

"What…?"

"To the death…"

"Why…?" The silver haired child was panicking now.

"It's the law of the community I live in… If you don't cooperate they will execute you… I'd prefer you to have a chance at survival."

Ivan gave a shaky sigh before nodding. "Alright…"

They both knew he had a fighting chance. He was well built and tall for his age. He could use this to his advantage.

The General sighed again, nodding as well, before stepping back out.

He saw the boy Ivan would be fighting.

He had dark hair, dark eyes and dark skin. He looked like he came from one of the far South-West countries and looked to be sixteen or seventeen. Big and brawny. Winter instantly feared for the boy in his care. He was twelve. Only twelve and three feet shorter than this giant.

"You know the rules Winter, as soon as both their feet touch the ground, the fight is on. Back away from him as soon as he touches the dirt."

The General nodded and helped Ivan out of the wagon that was still abit too high for him, but as soon as he was standing, Winter stepped back and he stumbled, not used to solid ground after so many years.

His opponent was fast and seeing the boy fumble, he used this to his advantage and was there almost instantly, slamming a fist into Ivan's face.

The boy stumbled more and fell to the dirt. He scrambled back to his feet and moved away.

The other stranger laughed. "You haven't trained him at all Winter. You've fallen like so many others and kept him as a pampered pet. And to think we use to call you the strongest of us."

The General sneered and Ivan saw his pained expression.

He wasn't going to die here today and make a laughing stock out of his would be father.

The dark giant moved towards him again but he ran forward into him, holding onto his stomach like his was hugging him and forcing him back with all of his strength until they both tripped over each other's feet.

Still having trouble with the solid ground prospect, Ivan was slow to getting back on his feet. The giant beat him to it and kicked him to the ground before sitting on his stomach and laying blows to his head and face. He wanted to kill him quickly.

The twelve year old did his best to block, but that meant he could hardly get a hit in, which only made it worse for him. Looking for anything that would help, he grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at the other's face.

The giant cried out and jumped off of him, trying to clear his eyes. The boy scrambled up again, still unsteady, and moved out of the way.

As he thought of how he could win this, the giant sneered at him and walked over to the back of his own master's wagon and pulled a curved sword out of it.

Winter seethed inside. "Vanya, you are allowed to have any weapon of your choosing, but once you choose, you cannot change. The rules say that now he has opted for a weapon, he must wait until you have chosen, but be quick about it."

Ivan nodded and ran to the back of the wagon and reached for one of the General's swords, when something else caught his eye and glinted in the sun in an appealing way. He wrapped his fingers around it and stepped back out into the open. When they saw what he had chosen, the General looked pained, his opponent smug and his opponent's master burst out laughing.

"You can't do much against a sword with a pipe boy!"

Ivan frowned and ignored him, focusing on the dark giant. He ran towards him and swiped the blade to cut off his head but the by ducked and moved in between his legs so that when he stood next he was behind him and the other was angered by this as he turned around and tried the same thing, But Ivan stepped out of the way, crouched to the ground and smashed his pipe into his knees. The blade went flying and landed a few meters away and the giant crashed to the ground with a growl of pain.

He couldn't move because one of his knee caps were shattered. And for a slight moment, his look was of fear. Ivan didn't want to hurt him. But then he sneered like an animal and tried to pull him down to the ground. The boy slipped and landed on his knees and the older boy tried to punch him and scratch him desperately. No… Ivan thought. No, he is an animal.

Now kneeling over him he started bring the piped down on his face. One of the dark giant's wrists snapped when he tried to block and he cried out in agony, human characteristics returning and he began screaming and begging for it to stop. But it didn't.

Ivan continued the onslaught and soon he was motionless and lifeless and the twelve year old was covered in blood, the face of the dead opponent unrecognizable and caved in. But something in Ivan's mind kept telling him to crush it even more… so he did. Never stopping.

The dead boy's master sighed and lit a pipe. "Well Winter, it looks like I'm in need of a new pupil now. Congratulations. Imagine what he'll be like when you teach him something. I'm jealous." And the he SMILED like a kindly old man and mounted his horse and rode off, his own horse and wagon following closely and he left the body behind.

When he was gone, Winter looked to Ivan, who had finally stopped beating the face of the dead boy.

HE was investigating the blood he was covered in and turned to face his father figure with a smile and darkened eyes, and he thought he heard a telltale noise emit itself from the back off the boy's throat…

NO! He was no longer a boy. He frowned and stormed to the back of his wagon and started a bon fire a few meters away before walking back and moving Ivan away from the body so that he could burn it.

To his horror, Ivan smiled as he watched the body burn. Like it was something he just couldn't miss. He looked happier than he was with sunflowers. And something in the General snapped. And angry fiber bristled and set off the rest. He went back to the wagon and pulled out all the things that the boy had made and threw them on the fire. Ivan watched him watched him, a panicked expression across his face as the cellophane sun melted with the burning paper flowers and drawings. The General glared at him.

"You are no longer a child!" He half yelled. "And children have no need of toys and such!" He thought for a moment before taking something else from the wagon and carrying it to the fire. Ivan was really panicked now. He started shaking as he saw his sunflower get thrown into the flames and burn with the dead boy.

He didn't understand. He had been told he would die if he didn't fight. So he had fought and won… isn't that what the General wanted? Why was he so angry all of a sudden?

He walked over to the blood covered boy and dragged him by the wrist, back to the wagon. Inside he moved the crates and pots to line the sides and took Ivan to the back wall where a chain was unveiled that the things had hidden. He sat Ivan down with his back to the wall and chained his hands above his head.

"What are you doing…?" He asked, unable to hide the distress and panic in his voice.

"When a boy wins his first fight he is always restrained like this. It's tradition." General Winter said blankly and pulled out a strip of clothe, tying it around his eyes. Now blinded, Ivan was really panicking and asking to be let go. Begging him to say that it was just a joke.

"It's no joke Vanya. It was all a lie. We all try to get close to you so that when this happens, you crack. How else do you think we get good fights out of you, you pathetic creature?"

The boy went to say something but he was gagged with another strip of clothe.

Winter left him to struggle against his bonds and stepped back outside to watch all the beloved decorations burn. He sighed and walked over to his horse, pulling a box out of his saddle bags and looking inside it. It was the sweet cake he had bought from the bakery of a village they had passed through that morning. He glared at it and threw it on the fire and close the wagon up before mounting his stallion again and moving off.

/

He couldn't tell how many years had passed. His life was different now. He could never see unless was fighting. He was unable to speak unless he was fighting or being fed. That was his life now. The decorations were forgotten and even his sisters. All he had was his pipe, the fighting and the man who tormented him.

But it had been too long since the wagon last moved. He had won the last fight so they should have been moving immediately after the body was burned.

Technically bodies, as two average spectators who had been cheering him on were dead as well. He couldn't help it that they had stepped inside the ring.

But why weren't they moving. He was eager to get to the next fight. But then he heard something and listened.

/

"You did your job too well Winter." The leader of the cult said. "He has completely snapped and I doubt he would see someone and simply say hello. You have to put him out of his misery."

They both looked to the platinum haired male who seemed to be staring through the new metal blindfold at them. It was creepy. But he was probably asleep as usual in between fights.

"I… You know I can't… You're the only one I've told about the garden he made me… I can't kill him… maybe there is a chance that we could make a new law or find anything to help him. We could stop the fighting and work to get him back to sane mind… He's still in there… I know it…"

"I'm sorry. He's seventeen. It's too late for him Winter. I know that he is special to you but you're just leaving him to suffer this way."

"Please… Anything… I'm begging you."

There was a moment of silence before the cult's leader sighed. "May I speak with him…? We shall see if the boy you would have called son is still in there."

The General nodded and the leader stepped into the wagon and knelt in front of Ivan. He took his blindfold off and dropped it to the floor. Two wide violet eyes stared back at him.

"Ivan… I'm going to talk with you… but to do that I have to take the gag off… will you cooperate…?"

There was a pause before Ivan nodded slowly and he stretched his jaw when the gag was removed.

"_Spasibo_…"

"Ivan… We're going to give you one last chance… if you fail, we will have to execute you… if you pass you will be expelled from fighting and the cult."

"Oh really…? And you think I will ever pass with the deaths of two innocent people on my hands…?" He tilted his head and smiled. The leader frowned.

"You will be taken to a special place where they will help you…"

I don't need help, Ivan thought as the gag was going to be put bag on. NO! His mind reeled in protest and he lashed out, the man in front of him, screaming as his teeth carved through his wrist and sliced his veins open. Ivan narrowed his eyes as he looked up at him and the leader tore away from him with another cry of pain.

He sneered and got out of the wagon, glaring at Winter. "This THING will be executed at sunrise. And don't think about running away Winter or you will have your head in a basket too!"

The leader left and Ivan smiled at the General with blood across his front, fresh and bright.

The General frowned and sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry Vanya… This is my entire fault." He put the gag back on and Ivan didn't lash out. As he blind folded him, he couldn't help but notice the few things that had changed. How he'd matured and grown and good two feet taller than his first opponent had been. But he was less stocky. But he was still that child… still a child in a young man's body.

When he made sure he was secure, Winter closed the wagon's doors and curled up, ready to go to sleep.

But as the night wore on and the moon rose higher, Ivan didn't sleep. And at exactly midnight he began pulling on the chains that held his arms slowly. 1… 2… 3… they snapped and he pulled them off of his hands. He reached up and pulled the gag and blindfold off and stretched with a smile at the sudden freedom of movement. He saw the General fast asleep and pulled his pipe to him. He wasn't afraid of this old man anymore. In fact, he was just an obstacle in his way. He woke the man up with a rough jerk and saw a frightened face. He giggled as he tied him to the wall with some rope and the broken chain.

Pulling out a knife, he ripped open the man's shirt and held the tip to his chest where he started carving. The General glared and bit back a scream. When Ivan was done he looked down to see what had been carved. It was upside down to him but he could read it well enough.

_Vanya's whore_

He thought it was an indication to what he would do next, but the young man with a broken mind rose to his feet and held up the oil lamp, lighting it.

With the same insane smile, Ivan gave a bow as if to bow to the empress.

"Farewell _moya lyubov'_~!" (_My love_) He said in a sing song voice and turned, exiting the wagon. Before he closed the door behind himself, he tossed the lamp bask in and the glass smashed, spilling the oil everywhere and the inside of the wagon caught alight. General Winter screamed as the growing flames licked at his skin and outside, Ivan smiled, holding his pipe close and walking away from the cult's encampment. He hummed to himself as the screams dulled and the camp was left behind and he walked through the snow.

He was happy. Finally free and outside with the night sky shining down on him clearly. Not wanting to stay in the same place, he began walking West and more into Europe.

He had been walking for many hours and the sun turned the horizon a lovely rose color when he found himself on an odd sort of road. It was very bumpy and littered with black rocks. On either side of the strange road where two long iron bars that seemed to have no end and in between spaced evenly from each other were rotting wooden planks.

Odd, he thought, but the road was leading him West, so he continued to follow it with a smile, humming and swing his pipe around.

Another good few hours following this road and he was entering a forest. The trees were tall and striped with black and white like the Siberian tigers he'd seen pictures of when he was learning in the wagon.

And then he shivered. It was strange. An odd feeling over coming him that he couldn't quite place. He had begun to feel it earlier, but was able to brush it aside. What was this feeling? It terrified him. He began to panic and started running, running into trees as he couldn't see where he was going and he tripped, falling into the snow where he curled up and fell asleep. The strange feeling only getting stronger.

/

"Why did you take this stranger in?" One voiced hissed.

"Because, he was unconscious in the snow in only his pants, aru. I wasn't going to leave him there to die. The wolves would had have had him." A warm, motherly yet still male voice, spoke.

"But there are already too many of us to feed aniki…" Are younger, childish voice piped up. "There's me and Kong and Mei and Kiku and Loung and you… There won't be enough food to make it to the western border if he tags along."

"Um… But he could…" A small girls voice spoke quietly. "He looks really big and strong so he could protect us from the wolves and hunt if we ask him nicely…"

"That's nonsense Mei." The first voice spoke again. "You can tell by all the different scars that he comes from that cult. He's probably insane."

"It doesn't matter Kiku…" A woman's voice permeated the silence before it fell. "Brother Yao took him in and he is his responsibility. We have little or no say in the matter." Discussion ceased, but there was a thick tension in the air.

Ivan felt a damp clothe wipe across his forehead and he frowned at the unusualness of it. The atmosphere was warm and cozy and he could hear wind outside. He frowned, thinking it too much like inside the wagon again.

Then he hear the ring of metal as a blade was drawn from it scabbard. But it had a different pitch to it from the curved swords or even the rapiers.

"Ah! Calm down Kiku, aru! I'm sure he won't hurt us… We'll be fine."

"But you saw the blood staining him. He is dangerous Yao."

"Kiku." The woman spoke again. "We have to start moving. Come out and steer the mule with me. Yong Soo, Mei, Kong, put on your coats and lead it with some wheat. Yao, join us when you're ready brother."

There was a flurry of movement and the space became less confined as five people moved out. A short while later there was a dull jolt and the room he was in began moving.

Ivan felt the damp clothe on his forehead again but he reached up with a hand and pushed it away, earning a yelp of surprise from the male… Yao, who was tending to him.

He sighed and opened his eyes slowly with a small frown as he observed that he was indeed in a wagon. But the interior was different. Not too much smaller than the one that would now be smoldering ash.

Herbs and jars of things hung from the ceiling and walls where there were a few patchy holes in the lining, but the roof was wood. The frame looked good but the panels looked to be a bit rotten.

The floor that he came to realize he was lying on was hard, not a mattress, and it was covered in wolf and bear skins. There wasn't a door at the back of which he could tell, and it was open with a few skinned and drying rabbits hanging ready to cook for the small companies supper that night.

At the end opposite the open end, there was a small window through which he could see the blurry silhouette of two people sitting and talking. Underneath the window there was an axe, a few pots, a couple of knives and scattered wet stones and a couple of cutting boards. There were also quite a few rolls of silk that could have been better organized, a small pile of wood and a pile of half constructed arrows.

"What is your name, aru?"

Ivan's attention snapped to the man tending to him.

He was the smallest man he had ever seen. Not a dwarf, but fairly short and quaint, breakable like fine china. His skin was pale porcelain and he had long loose black hair that appeared to have the texture of the silks rolled in the corner.

His eyes were like molten gold but Ivan saw another type of gold under those lashes. It reminded him of something. But he just couldn't quite place it.

He tried to think of his name… but the only one he could think of…

"Um… Vanya…"

"Vanya…? Isn't that a nickname for Ivan?" The raven haired male laughed lightly and Ivan frowned at that name. His real name. He tried to sit up but two hands rested on his chest and asked him to lay back down. "Please Ivan… You have hypothermia and have a really bad flu. The best thing for you is rest. I'm Yao, aru… Yao Wang."

"Yao Aru Wang?"

The other male just giggled. "No, aru… just Yao Wang…"

Ivan frowned at him. He wasn't stupid. It was Yao's stupid verbal tick. He tried sitting up again.

"No!" Yao shook his head quickly. "You can't… You're really sick…"

"What is sick?" Ivan had never known sickness.

For what he could remember, he had been healthy all his life in a warm wagon. But he didn't remember the orphanage as of yet. Even so, he had never been sick before his memory either, used to the cold. He would later find out that it was the warmth for so long that left him at the mercy of the cold.

"Um, aru… sick is when you don't feel particularly normal… you can feel a bit dizzy or light headed as well when your sick and you feel really warm or cold."

Ivan nodded and lay back down as asked. As soon as he relaxed, Yao pulled out the clothe and began wiping his forehead again. And as he did that, Ivan watched him curiously. People were'nt like this. People beat him, and raped him and fought him. So… Yao was not human. Therefore, Ivan relaxed around him. Still cautious and silent, but relaxed none the less.

The Russian was content to lay there in silence, flicking his eyes to and from the foreign objects that decorated the wagon. And then of course, back to this intriguing not-human, Yao.

But unlike Ivan, Yao was used to talking and bickering with his siblings, and the silence was deafening to him.

"U-Um… so were you a part of the cult that has the encampment further back on the rail, aru?"

Ivan sighed and nodded.

"You must be one of the generals then if you were walking around, aru."

Ivan shook his head.

"Then… what were you, aru?"

Ivan refused to speak. But Yao had a vague idea of what was on his mind and he looked over the scars on his body, some quite recent. He hadn't even taken the right of passage for a regular boy or the cult yet. Which meant he was still a fighter.

"Um, aru, how old are you?"

"… Seventeen."

Yao cursed in his mind. He had never had a thing to do with the cult, but he knew that boy's in it usually took the right of passage by sixteen at the latest. There was only on reason why Ivan wouldn't have gone through it yet.

"Are… Are you-"

"Am I sane? Is that what you are going to ask of me?" Ivan stared blankly at the rotting roof of the wagon.

Yao nodded. "Yes, aru."

"Well I can assure you that I am perfectly insane-Don't draw out that knife."

Yao lowered his hand from his waist where he had been reaching for his hunting dagger. They had heard a rumor from a general who had passed them with his wagon slightly before they found Ivan. That there was a fighter that had been pushed past the mental barriers of any normal fighter. He was the first to actually kill spectators and he had gone missing. That was why many other generals were fleeing. They were all terrified of this fighter.

"How… How did you escape, aru?" The Chinaman asked resuming wiping the larger male's forehead as if not terrified by this. He wished Kiku was there in the wagon with him. But he knew he could handle himself if need be.

"I pulled my chains out of the wall and burnt my master alive."

"Um…" Yao was speechless. Suddenly recurring thoughts in his head told him to get this maniac away from his siblings. But the bluntness in which he stated what he had done, like he didn't care what anyone thought of it, which really caught Yao's attention.

Ivan looked away from him. Had he scared this kind non-human person? Would he lose the only kind person in the world and be tossed back into… into… the… cold! He didn't want to be.

Yao saw what could be fear on this Ivan's face and smiled. He was human, deep down, under the terrifying madness, he was only human.

"Well… If you promise not to hurt anyone else unless you are forced to… then you can travel with us, aru."

Ivan couldn't believe what he had heard. Like a miracle had been blessed on him, a murderer and mad man. He swallowed not knowing what to say.

But Yao needed nothing to continue chattering away. The whole day was spent telling the Russian about his companions.

Kiku was his step brother when their parents had married. Yong Soo was their half brother. Kong was born out of an affair which their father, Yao's father, had had with a local whore. But when Kong was born he took the child and only Yao and Kiku and their mother had known of it but the boy was loved none the less and was raised with Yong Soo. Mei was their half sister.

They were fleeing Asia for Europe because their land had been devastated and people slaughtered by a stranger to pass through. Yao had seen this stranger. In fact, he and Kiku had been fleeing their burning house and the butchered corpses of their parents with their brothers and sister when the stranger had approached them, cornering them and offering them to join him.

He had said he had already slaughtered the rest of Asia with his army and had been watching them for some time and wanted them to become and extension of that army.

If it weren't for Kiku and his katana, then they would have been forced to give up or died. The silent Japanese man had barely saved them when he had cut the stranger's shoulder and in his distraction they had fled. As the stranger's hood slipped slightly, Yao distinctly remembered a pair of bright green eyes and flash of brown hair with a grin of perfect white teeth to mirror cruelty. A couple of days later when they were searching for survivors in the ash and scavenging for any kind of food, Loung had come by them with her mule and wagon.

She said that she had been traveling with her father when they had returned to find their city burning. They had come across the same stranger who was bleeding from the shoulder and her father had stepped out of the wagon to offer assistance and ask if they wanted to travel with them when the stranger had cut him to ribbons. In terror, the Vietnamese woman had taken the reigns to the mule and wagon and fled as fast as they would go.

They had all been traveling now for one month and their supplies were dwindling. They couldn't hunt because anything they caught that were larger than the scrawny rabbits couldn't hang from the roof to dry and the wolves found ways to steal it from them.

Ivan had never hunted in his life, but at hearing this he asked if he could hunt and keep the wolves away… he had heard the little girl, Mei as he now knew her, making such suggestions.

And yet that was not all, for once Yao had agreed to let him do that, he also made the Chinaman agree to letting him cut wood and fix the wagon and give it doors and things once he was better.

And so a deal was struck. Ivan could travel with them if he hunted and protected them from the wolves and kept the wagon in good condition.

:::

Two months Ivan had been traveling with the Asian family. They crossed a few travelers that told them to head back because of a feud that was slowly spreading between good and evil. They were fleeing Europe. But they still pressed on, eager to make it to the border and find a good piece of land to farm. But the closer they got, the more rumors they heard tell of someone called the savior and someone called the Shadow King.

But they were only stories to the seven travelers. So they moved on.

The days were long but good and as Ivan fixed the wagon, cut wood or cut strips of meat while sitting on the roof of the wagon to keep a look out, he would watch Yao and Kiku teach their three younger siblings a great manner of things. As the children learnt many different martial arts, and writing and reading and weaponry and anything else that could be deemed useful as even dancing and using a fan of rice paper and bamboo, Loung would sit atop the roof with Ivan and they would often talk as they both cut meat or they would carve little toy animals of stray bits of wood for the children.

The wagon no longer rotted and had a sturdy support. Doors were now in place to keep out the cold and Ivan had killed enough wolves and a bear to line the roof with furs. Bunks had been made along the walls. A set of smaller ones along one wall for Yong Soo, Kong and Mei. And two others, one on the wall opposite the children where Loung had claimed the top and Kiku took the bottom and then another on the back wall where Ivan had the top and Yao was on the lower bunk.

There were times when the day had been exciting and when the children were asleep, Kiku, Loung, Yao and Ivan would talk happily. And when Ivan would say something to embarrass Yao, the Chinaman would kick him in the back through the planks that made up the bunk above him and the Russian would chuckle.

He certainly stuck out too. A tall head of silver hair with two violet eyes, traveling with six other people, all with black hair and golden eyes save for Kiku and Kong, who had brown black eyes.

But despite the difference in appearance, Ivan was their family and they accepted him.

Kiku was the least accepting of him, but he knew how to have a good time and smiled on good nights, sharing stories and jokes around the evening fire.

Loung was still a little wary of Ivan as well, but smiled and sat with him, sometimes helping him with his work and ask for advice on how to keep her father's wagon well.

The children were infatuated with him it seemed. He was like a giant climbing pole after they finished their training and lessons and were given time to play before their chores and dinner before bed and moving out the next morning. Yong Soo was the most energetic, climbing up Ivan's new coat to sit on his shoulders, declaring that now he was taller than everyone, he could easily claim their breasts. Mei climbed up just as energetically and swung back and forth off of Ivan's outstretched arm like a swing or pendulum. And Kong… well, he would just stand their silently until Ivan picked him up with his free hand and put him on his unoccupied shoulder.

But Yao had the most interesting personality towards Ivan that the Russian simply didn't understand. He smiled and laughed with him, always keen to hang around him and enjoy the simple pleasures of his company. But he constantly shied away from him, like a coiling tendril of smoke that Ivan was trying to grasp and catch with his bare hands. It confused the Russian more than anything ever had, but he was content enough to leave Yao to his own thoughts and he never pushed forward the question of his actions.

So the traveling continued as normal, all seven intent on settling down and letting life carry on. Even if they had to remain travelers for years it wouldn't matter, because the wagon was their home.

But one day this would all change with the attack of a lone wolf, desperately starving and not alone as thought to be.

They had pulled over the wagon around mid afternoon to train the children. Loung was teaching Mei how to mend clothes and do certain woman things. Kiku was teaching Kong and Yong Soo a martial arts variation and Yao sat with Ivan as the Russian carved some caribou meat into strips and hung it on a rack to dry. Yao was sewing delicate and vibrant patterns in to the recently finished scarf that he had made out of silk and the bright silk threads brought the long spiraling Chinese dragons to life and they appeared to be flying through hundreds of different sized sunflowers.

It was for Ivan because he had asked for one and a silk one would never have kept him warm, but it was a light fur wool one underneath encased with the cream silk and all held together with the glimmering embroidery. The added décor a gift for all the work Ivan had done for them.

The silver haired man was glad to wait that little bit longer. He got to spend more time with Yao as he asked what he liked. The sunflowers were obvious and made him smile, but the dragons, though he adored the detail of every tooth, scale and claw, reminded him of the paper caterpillar he had made in his old home and it brought about memories.

He was still surely insane, but being with kind people who cared for him as one of their own, helped him stay on the right side of his mind.

Until this day of course.

The wolves had attacked before, but no one had ever been hurt. Their nature was to hunt to eat to survive. Ivan understood the need to survive and so was merciful to them, killing them quickly and as painlessly as possible.

But as he chatted to Yao happily and cut strips of meat, he failed to notice the approach of one lone hesitant she-wolf. He had trained himself to look for the packs and so she went by unnoticed.

Until there was a scream and a shout of surprise.

The shout came from Kiku who had a large fresh gash in his arm where the wolf's teeth had shredded through the skin. The scream had come from either one of the boys who were both running back in terror. Kiku was close behind them, ushering them to move faster. Everyone was in shock and Ivan stood up, snatching up his pipe for the first time since he had come to the Asian family and abandoned the hunting knife.

Yong Soo and Kong got into the back of the wagon to stay safe with Mei and Loung and Yao and Kiku were watching Ivan carefully. The sight of his pipe glinting in the sun, filling them with a kind of dread.

The Wolf charged at the Russian. She was big. Gigantic. And more so, powerful. He was given no attack vantage before he had to raise the pipe to shield himself, and the wolf's mouth clamped over it.

He grasped the fur of her belly and pushed her back, half throwing her to the ground. He went to strike…

_The giant cried out and jumped off of him, trying to clear his eyes. The boy scrambled up again, still unsteady, and moved out of the way. _

He blinked and shook his head as the she-wolf came back on her feet. He went to strike again but the piped slipped out of his fingers…

"_You can't do much against a sword with a pipe boy!"_

Ivan frowned. He felt a little dizzy like the recurring thoughts in his mind wouldn't stop spinning around in a hectic mass. He could make sense of nothing.

_Now kneeling over him he started bring the piped down on his face. One of the dark giant's wrists snapped when he tried to block and he cried out in agony, human characteristics returning and he began screaming and begging for it to stop. But it didn't._

The wolf charged again and he smashed his fist into it's jaw, sending it crashing to the ground again. He kneeled over it and clasped his fists together, slamming them into it's skull before it was given a chance to get back up.

_Ivan continued the onslaught and soon he was motionless and lifeless and the twelve year old was covered in blood, the face of the dead opponent unrecognizable and caved in. But something in Ivan's mind kept telling him to crush it even more… so he did. Never stopping. _

Someone screamed and Ivan stopped his fists, midair. Who had screamed? He felt the wolf's blood running down his face and arms, soaking through his clothes. It felt… good.

_HE was investigating the blood he was covered in and turned to face his father figure with a smile and darkened eyes, and he thought he heard a telltale noise emit itself from the back off the boy's throat…_

The noise he had long forgotten, the death chant, rolled out of the back of his throat again and he smiled as he looked at the blood over his hands. So beautiful… he thought. There was another scream and he frowned.

Why should anyone scream on a joyous occasion?

His face darkened as he felt the anger bubble inside of him and he turned to see who had screamed and who would join his opponent… when…

His expression fell. The doors to the wagon had been closed, Loung barricading the children inside. And Yao was crying, sobbing into Kiku's shoulder, the Japanese man holding his stepbrother with one arm, his bloodied one holding his katana out in a simple way to tell Ivan to back off.

A single tear carved through the blood that coated Ivan's expressionless face. And then the first drops of rain fell before the down pour began.

Ivan scrambled to his feet and ran. He ran south, away from Yao and Kiku and Loung and the children. The not-human people he didn't want to hurt. The rain disguised his crying. The only way he knew he was crying was the burning in his eyes and the sobs that tore out of his throat. He kept running south, crashing off of trees he couldn't see, bruising his arms and body.

"_I have to leave Vanya… I can't take it here anymore… Natalia is too young… but when she is your age, please run away as well and head for the border. I'm running south to where it is warm and I will meet you at the border on your ninth birthday alright?"_

"IVAN!" Someone was calling out for him. "Ivan!" More than one person.

He couldn't think. His mind wouldn't let him think other than the one word.

Run. He had to keep running.

Most of the blood had been washed off by now and his hair stuck to his face as it became soaked with the rain.

He couldn't see anymore. Tears blurred his vision in a thick haze.

"Katuyasha!" She was waiting for him. He was late but she would be there. "Natalia!" He had lost her. She was here. He just couldn't find here. No… He was lost. He didn't know where he was. "Help me!"

"Vanya! Please… Come back!"

It was a new voice. The important voice. The voice his mind told him to listen to. And when he did, he lost thought on what he was doing and he tripped, crashing to the ground and getting covered in snow and mud.

Laying there under the snow and rain, he didn't want to get up. He wanted to sleep and stay that way forever until the devil came to take him to hell. Because that's where evil people go, he told himself.

He could hear the voices of his now lost family grow fainter as they wandered in the wrong direction. They would be better off without him anyway.

And then he heard footsteps…

"… Oh shit. Arthur, get over here."

"What is it Alfred?"

"C'mon… we gotta help him…"

"Huh…? Oh Go- … Help me get him up… we'll take him bac-"

:::

"Vanya?"

Someone was brushing the hair out of his face with soft hands and a gentle touch.

"Please wake up, ok?"

Maybe it was his sister and he was sick after a long day of farming barley and flax and wheat.

"Come on, we're safe now, aru,"

Wait… that voice was different.

With a little drowsy difficulty, he opened his eyes, rubbing on slightly with his free hand. His other hand was being held by someone who was rubbing circles on the back of it.

He looked over slowly and saw Yao, hair messy and dirty.

"Yao…?"

The Chinaman nodded and smiled, with a relieved look.

"Yes… It's me, aru. You've been asleep for a few days."

Ivan looked around. He was in a still room. So he wasn't in a wagon. They were in a building. The room was completely white marble with a large window and balcony opening out to an ocean view and a blue sky. It was really warm and he realized he was in only his pants with no blanket and sweating from the heat.

"Where are we…?" He asked slowly, his stomach rumbling a bit at the sudden thought of food. Yao smiled and got up quickly, walking to the other side of the room, returning with a tray filled with fruit. Ivan swallowed and sat up, taking the plate and like a starved man, ate ravenously. It was foreign, but nice.

Yao giggled. "We're in Italy. In a place called the coliseum, aru. They've been building it into a large palace structure to house nearly everyone and farm the land around it."

Ivan paused at his food. "They?"

"Yes, aru. The rumors about the Savior and the Shadow King were true. It was the supposedly bad one, the Shadow King, who brought us in."

Ivan nodded and put his fruit back down on the plate, not feeling so hungry quite suddenly. He set the plate aside and turned back to Yao.

"Yao…?"

"Yes, aru?"

With a sigh and nervous heart beat, he leaned forward and brushed their lips together in what he hoped was a way to convey what affections he felt towards the other. They confused him. He didn't know what to call it. But he had a feeling that that is what someone does when they feel such a way towards someone else.

Yao blushed madly and stayed silent and Ivan pulled back.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what to do… I just… I just don't want you to go…"

Yao smiled and rested his hand on Ivan's cheek.

"So young and foolish… I already made that promise when I met you."

The raven haired male leant forwards and pressed his lips to the Russians, guiding him into a deeper kiss and in time, though not so quickly, into more.

:::

"hm…? Vanya?" Yao looked up from the map he was reading. In his embroidered scarf and large black coat, Ivan was staring out into space with his hands in his coat pockets, the material barely moving in the slight breeze. The call of his lover brought him back to the present and he smiled.

"I'm fine Jao… Just thinking…" With a slight inclination of his head, he looked back to the horizon. "Gilbert and Ludwig are returning at last. But they are alone."

"Then something must of gone wrong." Sadiq said as he made sure all their mount's and equipment were well and sufficient.

Nothing more was said until the two Germans had arrived on site and had some water as theirs had run out hours ago.

"What happened?" Gupter asked, frowning.

"We got attacked and then when we handled those guys the palace guard arrived and we couldn't protect the kid and some freakish giant stole him and if they're not here then they got lost in the desert…" Gilbert sighed and fell on his ass in the sand.

Ivan chuckled. "Well then I suppose we have a scavenger hunt to prepare for."

:::

_YAY! Chapter finally finished. I know it is long. And because it is a Sweden x Finland story, you're probably wandering what the hell is this whole chapter for. Well, there were clues as to who the Savior is. And then there are some other things you need to keep in mind. _

_Don't worry, next chapter there is SuFin and irritable fluff, the Savior appears, identity still hidden and Camels. Gotta love them damn camels._

_Please review and take a shot at guessing the identity of the savior. I bet you'll never get it. :3_

_3 3 3 3 3 _

_PrussianMongrel_


	5. I'm Still Here

_Fifth chapter is a go!_

_So sorry for the lack of Su/Fin in the last chapter. But there were points you wi__ll notice throughout the story that may or may not be important. Also, there was a description of the Savior in there if you picked up on it. So maybe have a shot at guessing._

_Sorry if this took awhile. I have been job searching and failing and searching and failing. But yeah. I'm a gonna get there. _

_BTW! I'm sick of Kelly Clarkson so I'm changing the artist and just doing random lyrics now. _

_OMFG! WORD HAS SMILEY FACES! _

_And seriously… I'm not too sure what this chapter is… so no flaming me. _

_Treasure Planet – I'm still here (Jim's Theme) _

_I, Have a question to the world_

_Not an answer to be heard _

_All the moment_

_Just held in your arms_

_And what_

_Do you think you'd ever see_

_I will listen anyway_

_You don't know me_

_And I'll never be who you want_

_Me to be_

_And what_

_Do you think you'd understand_

_I'm a boy no I'm a man_

_You can't take me_

_Just throw me away_

_And how_

_Can you learn what's never shown_

_Yeah you stand here on your own_

_They don't know me_

_Coz' I'm not here_

_And I wanna moment to be real_

_Wanna touch things I don't feel_

_Wanna hold on _

_And feel I belong_

_And how_

_Can the world want me to change_

_They're the ones who stay the same_

_They don't know me_

_Coz I'm not here_

_And you see the things they'd never see_

_All you wanted_

_I can be_

_Now you know me_

_And I'm not afraid_

_And I_

_Wanna tell you who I am_

_Can you help me be a man_

_They can't break me_

_As long as I know who I am_

_And I _

_Wanna moment to be real_

_Wanna touch things I don't feel_

_Wanna hold on_

_And feel like I belong_

_And how_

_Can the world want me to change_

_They're the ones who stay the same_

_They can't see me_

_But I'm still here_

_They can't tell me who to be_

_Coz' I'm not what they see_

_And the world keeps on slipping_

_While I keep on dreaming for me_

_And their words are just whispers _

_And lies that I'll never believe_

_And I wanna moment to be real_

_Wanna touch things I don't feel_

_Wanna hold on_

_And feel I belong_

_And how_

_Can they say I'll never change_

_They're the ones that stay the same_

_I'm the one now_

_Coz I'm still here_

_I'm the one_

_Coz I'm still here_

_I'm still here_

_I'm still here_

_I'm still here…_

:::

Tino sighed as he stared up at the sky. Five days they had been wandering. Food gone on the second and water on the fourth. Things might have been different if Berwald actually knew where the so called checkpoint with supplies was, or even better, knew how to find his way around the desert.

Tino did… but he didn't know where the checkpoint was… or preferably the oasis where he would have been two days ago if his companion hadn't interfered in the first place. By now he could have probably been on a ship bound for a cooler place and figuring out what to do after that.

But no… he was dragging his feet through the sand, lips cracked and bleeding from the heat drying them out. Any skin that was showing was blistered and peeling slightly. He felt sore, tired and dirty, covered in sand from head to toe.

Deciding that it was best not to stare at the sun incase his eyes disagreed with it, he looked at him of him, staring at the back of his companion. Berwald, tall as ever even when his back was bowed slightly to protect his face from the sun.

He was the reason Tino was in this mess. His fault that they were probably going to die in this godforsaken desert. But he couldn't get mad at him. Because he for one… was in the same predicament.

Secondly… Tino knew that he was just a man. He couldn't help the things he wasn't good at like navigating. At least he'd managed to shoot down a scrawny bird that had probably escaped the city's aviary. That had been there meager dinner two nights before. And maybe that would keep them alive for a little while longer.

The accuracy of his shot at dusk, despite the fact that maybe the glasses helped, well… it gave Tino to wonder how he had come to be such a good shot. He would have asked him… but he didn't want to ask something that could anger the North Man. If his normal face was a constant glare or scowl, then what would he look like angered?

So, in preference of not risking anything, Tino remained quiet and never said a word unless he knew it was required.

So he now removed his gaze from the larger man's back to the sand in front of him.

He continued walking for a time when it seemed that the ground gave a lurch and his stomach did sickening back flips that made him want to throw up all over the sand. Thankfully there was no food in his stomach for this to happen, but he didn't have a thought for that as he was falling forwards, completely out of balance and… he collided with Berwald, making the larger man stumble a bit.

The Swede blinked and turned around to see a red in the face Tino half collapsed against him. The red in the face dilemma could have been because the boy had tripped over his own feet and run into him.

But the expression on the smaller males face said fever. He was probably sick from lack of water and food.

Tino saw Berwald looking at him and uttered out jumbled apologies, but made no attempt to move. He just couldn't find it in himself to raise a finger at the moment.

"D'n't ap'lo'g'ze… y' s'ck…" Berwald turned to face the other and felt his forehead. Hotter than it should have been even in the desert and beaded with cold sweat.

With a sigh, the Swede untied the threads of his dark blue cloak and gestured for Tino to climb up onto his back, in which he had little complaint and needed a little help with. When he was holding on, with his arms around Berwald's shoulders and his legs wrapped around the other's waist so he didn't fall, Berwald put the cloak back on the hide the boy from the son and raised the hood over his own head.

Because the cloak was dark, it would heat up a bit, but it would still be a bit cooler for Tino in its shade.

Hooking his arms under the Fin's legs to hold him up, Berwald began walking once more.

Tino himself was just glad enough to let his exhaustion over come him… and the fact that the quiver on his companion's back was soft leather and the bow was on the Swede backwards, so that way he wasn't too uncomfortable.

He rested his head on the man's shoulder and as he let a cloud over exhaustion overwhelm him, he heard, through Berwald's back, a deep thumping noise.

And his last thought before he finally slept was, _no one has a heart that big._

:::

"Mathias… what do I have to do to get you and your team up to date?"

The Dane flinched as the Savior yelled. He had never seen him this angry before. Had he not always been a generous and kind man.

But the moment he mentioned that they had failed to eliminate the Germans, had failed in capturing the boy and lost Berwald… the Savior seemed to lose it momentarily. His green eyes flashed vehemently as he let the Dane continue.

The hope of all the people had not just come all the way to Egypt to hear that his three highest ranking elites had failed and one left them like a no good turncoat.

"We'll get Berwald back… We'll get the boy… and we'll kill the Germans if that's what it takes. Just give us another chance." Mathias pleaded.

The Savior pointed a finger at the Dane, silencing anything else he may have had to say.

"One! One more chance Mathias… I am good… but I will not tolerate failure. Bring the boy and Berwald back. You will execute him for abandonment of his comrades. And the boy will be locked away for the time being."

Mathias looked up, with shock, fear, sorrow and the tiniest bit of anger that slipped through written all over his features. "But… I… I can't execute Berwald… He's my friend. I… just… I can't…"

"Oh… you will Mathias… Or I will have the head of that lover of yours…" The savior sneered and walked off, not willing to hear any more on the topic. "Three days Mathias Køhler! Three days!"

The Dane stood still for a moment longer before turning and walking out the door and down the sandstone corridors towards his room again.

He pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, collapsing on the bed beside a certain Norwegian who had set his book aside in favor of watching his lover carefully.

"I know that face… what's wrong…?" He asked, resting a hand lightly on the blonde's arm.

"I don't know what to do… I… We have three days to bring Berwald and the kid back…"

"… What else… there's more to it…"

"… The Savior said that… we have to lock the kid up and I… I… I have to execute Berwald for leaving us in a fight…" Mathias sighed, holding and arm over his eyes.

"Well… why don't you just say no… you can't do that to a friend… It isn't right." The platinum haired boy, still baring no name, ran his fingers the hair of his lover, feeling affectionate due to the pity that was eating away at him.

Mathias was strong. He was brave, but foolhardy. And most of all, he was eager to prove himself. But to prove himself by killing his friend on law wasn't something he would be capable of doing. He was just one of those guys who once he got along with you, then you were a deadest friend. And if he didn't like you, unless it was strong dislike, there was always room and time to change.

The Dane looked up at his lover, the Norwegian was about to ask why such a look when his lips were being crushed almost feverishly.

By the way in which a desperation came over Mathias, the smaller male knew by what means he would be spared of killing his friend. And for the first time in a very long time, he was afraid.

:::

Tino woke against his will as a faint noise stirred him irritatingly. "… Mm…" He opened his eyes slowly and let his senses return, sighing a little as they did so.

He was still holding onto Berwald's back and the Swede still walking relentlessly. It was dark under the cloak that kept the sun off of him, but he could see through thinning parts of the material that it was still day, late afternoon maybe.

As far as he could tell, Berwald didn't know he was awake and kept walking with his head down.

And the faint buzzing noise grew a little more and it wasn't as inside Tino's head as he first thought.

He tried to ignore it, closing his eyes tight and trying to get back to sleep, but it grew a little more. It seemed to becoming from a way off ahead of them so, curious as to what it could be; Tino lifted the front of the cloak a bit to peak out.

It was the same old desert. Golden-orange sand spread out for miles on every side. The occasional sand scrub dotted here and there. And on the horizon, growing bigger by the second was a cloud of dust.

Sandstorm.

"Ah… Berwald… we need to get in a shelter."

The Swede nodded. Ok… so he had know that Tino was awake and apparently knew of their predicament. Sandstorms, since the last Great War, were deadly to bare flesh, stripping it to the bone. And they couldn't move to the side or turn around because it would catch them.

"I kn'w… b't unl'ss y' s' a sh'lter w' h've n'ne." Berwald said this all quite monotone, as if he didn't really care.

"So… are you just going to let us die…? Just like that…?" Tino frowned through his little peephole. He was ready for death in whatever form but that didn't mean he wanted to die for goodness sake. The Fin bit his lip as he thought, watching the sand around them before an idea came to him. "Berwald… take us to a bush. I have an idea."

The Swede frowned at the unusual request but did so anyway, veering off to the left from their original course and stopping in front of a fairly average sized bush with only sticks and no leaves. There were three stones around its base and Tino smiled when he saw it over the other's shoulder.

"Can you put me down please…?" Once again Berwald nodded and complied with the request, Helping Tino off of his back and out from under his cloak, setting him on his feet.

But because he was sick and still tired, Tino stumbled and fell on his ass.

"S'rry..." Berwald mumbled.

"N-No… it's fine…" The smaller male pulled himself closer to the bush, feeling just a little anxious at how close the sandstorm was getting. He picked up the three stones and showed them to the other. "We'll need your cloak for this…"

Berwald frowned and thought, before nodding. He knew the boy's plan.

The Swede untied his cloak and removed his bow and quiver, giving them to Tino. He also took his leather vest of and set it down, instructing the smaller male to lie down and use it as a headrest.

When the Fin was lying down and holding onto his bow and quiver, He spread his cloak out over him and weighted down the corners and edges with the stones and sand, angling it so that it would be protected from the wind by the sand bush.

He could feel the wind picking up and the sandstorm was almost upon them, so he moved quickly to the small opening he had left just big enough for him, the hood of the cloak, and slid inside, reaching back out and pulling the hood inwards to seal off the opening just as the sandstorm arrived on top of them and the noise was far greater than an irritating buzz.

He winced slightly and made a noise of irritation as he looked at the back of his hand. It had just been caught in the storm and was bleeding profusely. And the stinging felt as if it would drive him insane if that was how it remained.

"… Let me see it…" Tino angled himself a bit better to take a look at his companion's hand. "… You need to wrap it in something… so it doesn't get infected…"

"… M'kay…" Berwald nodded and reached around with his good hand to rip the sleeve off the arm with the injured hand and gave it to Tino who wrapped the wound awkwardly in the enclosed space, tying off a knot and smiling tiredly with a sigh.

"That should do for now… though you may have to give up your other sleeve in a day or two to give it a clean bandaging…"

Berwald nodded and looked over the bandaging of his hand. "'T's g'od…"

"Um… Thankyou."

The Swede nodded again and no more words were shared.

Tino still felt unwell… but he felt that he had slept long enough for the time being when he was on Berwald's back. And now the sound of nothing but their breathing and the swirling sand outside their makeshift shelter was driving him insane.

He looked over to companion, or captor, as he still had to decide and saw that he was looking through his severely scratched glasses and inspecting his hand.

"H-hey… Berwald… why don't we play a game?"

:::

_Yup… Short chapter is short. _

_:D hope you liked it. There will be more to come. My mind is advancing the story faster than my frozen fingers can type so the chapters should be should for a while but don't worry, they'll pick up eventually. _

_Also… my internet has been a bitch lately so please do not complain about lateness or  
I will ignore you. _

_And I hope to have more up soon. _

_Please take a stab at who the Savior is. I'd like to hear what you think. It's easier than it looks. :D_

_I love you all and especially if you're still reading. _


	6. Cramped Quarters

Tino had come to find that though silent, Berwald was very good at playing things like charades and Pictionary. He had even seen him smile a couple of times while they were playing and he'd actually heard him chuckle at one stage.

But after an hour or two, the Swede had drifted off, too tired for anything more and Tino lay quietly alongside him, under the makeshift cover. The sandstorm still lingered but wasn't as fierce as the first few hours and was now letting off more of a light drone than a roar.

But still… It was getting dark as the pinpoints of light that filtered through the tiny worn gaps in the material of their cover were slowly fading away, and the darker it got, the less Tino could see.

And well… though he was ashamed to admit it… he was terrified of the dark. And for the past few nights he had been walking or falling asleep by a dim fire with Berwald keeping watch.

And now there was no fire and he was the only one awake. He could have tried to go to sleep, but that would be doing so in fear which was very difficult and he would end up having horrible nightmares, either of hideous monsters and beasts or of past occurrences that haunted him still.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to not cry, praying he could just do it just this once. Right now he should have been cleaning up after supper with Katuyasha and sitting down as she gave him his final reading lessons, as he was almost fully literate.

They would usually have a cup of tea and then go to bed early, completely relaxed and thinking happy thoughts.

And if anything, the sandstorm merely tore him away from his near happy thoughts and he whimpered.

It was hopeless. Completely hopeless to depend on his own bravery, if there be such a thing within him.

And all he had to depend on for safety right now… was Berwald.

He sniffed and bit his bottom lip before he shifted forward, curling up against the larger of the two, hiding his face in his chest.

He almost died of a heart attack when he felt two arms wrap around him in response.

"I-I… I'm sorry…" The Fin whispered, feeling a little ashamed of himself.

"D'n't be… J'sttr' t'sle'p." The Swede mumbled, sounding alert but still somewhat tired.

Tino smiled and nodded a little, closing his eyes slowly. "Yes… okay…"

/

Nameless as ever, the platinum blonde looked up to his Danish lover.

Mouth set in a grim line, eyes not full of the usual spark he would usually acclaim to be annoying and trying to stand straight but his shoulders bowed slightly as he scanned the horizon. He didn't want to kill Berwald. But… he didn't want to lose his Norwegian either.

But there was no way that either of them could think of that they could slip through it or find a way around it.

And Mathias wouldn't let the smaller male give himself up for Berwald's sake and the platinum blonde refused the same course of action from the Dane.

The only choice they had was to find Berwald, and as they searched, hopefully come up with a plan to save the lives of all three. Running away from civilization seemed the easiest at this point in time, but was infact probably the hardest thing to do. Living in the wilderness with out any contact to the outside world, no way to get supplies if desperate… they may as well decide to become savages…

And that looked like the only course of action that they could successfully get away with… unless… well… Mathias tried not to think about it but… the only way to save the lives of all three… well… give it a shot anyway… was to change sides…. Change sides and work for the Shadow Lord instead. But… they weren't so sure they wanted that, even as a last resort.

Because… The Shadow King was evil… and… the Saviour… the Saviour… he was good… right?

/

"The storm is slowing down… And it's almost light… we should keep looking before the heat sets in, da?" Ivan said as he poked his head out of a small gap from the tent they had built at the sight of the approaching sandstorm the day before. Everyone was surprised that it had actually managed to stay up and they had all managed to sleep as comfortable as one could on sand with camels in the tent beside you. Least to say, it had been very snug.

Gilbert was the first of the group to perk up at that. "Awesome…. Sadiq sat on my face last night and my ass hurts."

The Turk who was the complete opposite side of the tent, grinned widely at the albino. "Your fault for kicking me in the face."

Ludwig, ever the persistent leader type, rolled his eyes with a sigh and climbed out of the tent, calling behind him once outside in the early morning desert sun. "Hurry up and get out so we can get the camels ready and search for Tino…" Everyone nodded, with a tired sigh though, and climbed out, dismantling the tent and getting their mounts ready. Once everything was packed up, they climbed onto the desert beasts and resumed their search as a light breeze stayed off the sun's rays.

They had already been searching for not that long when Ivan, frowned, and stopped. Also frowning, Ludwig stopped and looked at him. "Something wrong Ivan?" He asked doing a quick scan of the horizon. Ivan was like their high alert system, if you wanted to look at it that way. His senses were slightly higher than others, much like he found it easy to adapt to different environments. That made him useful and of course, despite him being a human taking refuge, he was put to use. Him just being around had strangely enough saved many peoples' lives by figuring out where an ambush was or pointing people down the safer path by just looking at the land scape. That and he was just a shit scary fighter, cutting down any opponent in his path.

"I hear something… south east of here… maybe half a mile…?" He said slowly, though appearing as though he was trying to hear it better.

"Saviour's troops?"

"Nyet…." Ivan frowned again. "It sounds like a cry for help… maybe a small boy or…."

"It might be Tino…" Gupta said, looking at Sadiq. "We should check it out."

"Nodding in agreement, the small band set of, following Ivan's directions, relaxed that they knew there were none of the Saviour's soldiers nearby, yet still on guard. One could never tell if it was a trick being played or merely a trick Ivan's mind was playing on him. This… was common… and one of the downers of Ivan's senses… they all knew the story of his past, though sketchy, and his mind was just never quite right… Sometimes he would go into a dreamlike state, cloudy smile plastered across his face, or other times he would become enraged, or scared, seeing what was not real and try to hit, hurt, fight and kill… So… while useful… no one… well, rarely anyone, trusted him… The main person who did was Yao… he trusted him with his life… and thus he bore scars for it. No one would understand why he forgave and continued to trust.

It was probably a good half hour later that they all saw at the top of a dune a boy, in a blue tunic waving his hands and jumping in the air, definitely trying to catch their attention. As they came closer, the blonde hair, violet eyes and burnt, but pale skin gave him away. They forced the camels into a run and came to a halt five metres before him, all but Ivan dismounting… The fin smiled, relief washing over his features.

"Thankyou…." He whispered, voice hoarse from shouting and screaming. Next thing he knew, a flask of water was being pushed into his hand with a chink of bread and cheese, and he devoured them hungrily, washing it down with the water. When he was done, they tried to lead him to the camels, but to their astonishment, he pulled away.

"Tino? What's wrong?" Heracles asked, stepping forward slightly.

The small blonde bit his lip and gave a quick glance over his shoulder, down below the dune. "Please…" He looked back to them with pleading eyes. "Please…. He's hurt… He got hurt when the sandstorm came and then… He didn't wake up this morning! I can't get him to wake up!" Distress was thick in the boy's voice and tears of said distress and exhaustion prickled at the corners of his eyes.

Everyone was confused… but it was Gilbert who got it first and he nodded to Tino. "Don't worry… we'll help him… coz, It's totally un-awesome to leave someone stranded, ja, West?"

Ludwig gave a puzzled expression, frowning slightly before nodding.

"Ja… Ivan, Yao… you come with us… Heracles… take Tino to the camels and get him some more water."

The Greecian nodded and led the Fin over to the desert beasts, the other's remaining on top of the dunes as Gilbert, Ludwig, Ivan and Yao, went below into the ditch created by the dune they were on and the next one, a bit of it in shadow because of the other dune.

"I don't see anything…" Gilbert said. He knew that Tino wasn't lying, let alone hallucinating, because he knew Berwald had come into the desert with him. The others had known it too, but he was the only one who guessed Tino hadn't run away from the Swede somehow. He'd stuck with him. He felt like they should do this, that they owed it to the man to save his life, even if he had been right about it being morally correct. Because if the archer hadn't of save Tino and taken him from the fight, then both German's would have been slaughtered while trying to do so themselves.

"Wait… what about that bush over there?" Ivan said, pointing to a desert scrub, dusty from the storm.

With a nod from Ludwig, the four made their way to it and sure enough, slightly covered by the shade of the scrub, lay Berwald, covered by his cloak to keep the sun off of him.

Yao, the mother like doctor of the group, knelt down beside him and felt his forehead, feeling the heated skin and the cold sweat. Sweat meant he was alive, so it was a good sign enough for now. He felt the eyes of his lover and the German's on him as he lightly touched the horribly bandaged hand and unwrapped the dirty material, revealing the back of his hand.

It was beginning to scab at the very edges but it wasn't healing well, a thick, clear fluid flowing quite freely from it.

Sighing, Yao took a bandage from the pack at his waist and began to rewrap it. "He needs medicine… We have to take him back to the ship where I can do more for him, aru…" The Chinese bit his lower lip before tying off the bandage and climbing back to his feet. "Ivan… can you please help me with him?"

The Russian blinked and nodded with a small smile, bending at the knees, and picking the unconscious male up. It would have appeared comical if not a serious situation, as the other was probably, when standing, close to the Russian's height. That was saying something, as Ivan was the tallest person most people would come across.

As they began back up the dune and hence to the camels, Tino either having fainted or fallen asleep on Heracles, Ludwig frowned, muttering to Ivan. "When the time comes, can we trust this man?"

Ivan looked at the German and smiled softly. "I don't know him Ludwig… I just know that he doesn't want other people looking into his past, present or future."

"What does that mean?" Gilbert queried.

"It means…" Ivan began and looked ahead, uncomfortable as always around the steadfast albino. "That I don't know… much… He just wants… to be left alone."

"Like you used to…?" Yao asked, looking up at the much taller man, smiling softly.

"Da… Like me…" Ivan smiled… No one was ever like him before…

/

The water was cool on his toes, sunlight warm in his messy chocolate hair and everything absolutely wonderful. Everything was wonderful because that's how it was for him… nothing had a downside. Not even his companion screaming blue murder at him for being to happy. That just made him happier.

Looking over his shoulder he smiled a suntanned smile at the pouting boy before him.

"There is nothing wrong with being too happy, si~"

/

_There, I think that last character is pretty obvious, but what role he plays is still hidden. I'll go into his story a little bit in the next chapter, but I won't go into it as much as I did with Ivan. FORGIVENESS! _

_Sorry also for the delay on posting this chapter. Ontop of limited internet access, my mom won't let me onto anything except facebook. CURSE THIS NOT BEING EIGHTEEN FOR NINE MONTHS crap. Any way, I'm sneaking on to post this to you so you should worship me damnit! 3 Love you gais!_


	7. Wolf

Spain would have been a wonderful place to grow up in most people's opinions. Not in Antonio's. He loved the climate, the land, its people. But he hated the memories of his childhood.

If he were to say that out loud he would probably be accused of being ungrateful. Everyone said that he had had a great and wonderful childhood. And perhaps he had compared to some people he had met.

He grew up as a single child with both of his parents. Both their attentions on him with no end and no sibling to rival that. The land was owned by the Saviour and everyone was loyal to him. Antonio had grown up in a town that saw the Saviour as the new god of the world.

Every Sunday he would go to market with his mother, and Tuesdays they would go to pray at the cathedral. The town was quite wealthy as were his parents.

His mother, was the daughter of a well known and quite portly merchant. This man enjoyed picking on Antonio for being too thin and wild compared to his silk wearing mother, who was also fairly round, though any man who saw her thought her lovely.

His father was a warrior who was high in rank and in charge of the town and it's some three thousand people. He was friendly to everyone he had met. He took after his own father who had died in battle and his mother was an old crone who whispered unbeknownst curses on anyone who crossed her path.

Growing up with such a mother had made Antonio's father, though as said, friendly, strict and determined to make his son a fine man and warrior.

So while he had been teaching the boy to fight, a good hard lashing for every mistake, his wife smiled from the window as she watched, too concerned with her embroidery or perfume to worry about the blood of her blood that stained her garden.

It was cruel. Twisted even. But it was what Antonio thought was right and he grew up as a fine warrior. It should have made his father proud, but the man was stubborn and the now seventeen year old was a cast away disappointment. Antonio took that however, taking his own home now, and serving in the defence of the town under his father. He went to every prayer session and had been put in an arranged marriage with a woman his mother's father thought fine for him. She had a pretty face but was rather dull… but it pleased some of Antonio's family so he nodded and said 'Si'.

It was around the time of his eighteenth birthday, he was laying down, ready to go to sleep when his father burst into his small home, dressed in his armour and ready for battle.

He ordered him to get up and get dressed. The Shadow lord had commanded an attack on their town.

True to his duty and his father, Antonio, was soon dressed and ready as the scarred man. he followed him out and to the east side of the town where there were many fires.

"What happened?" Antonio asked as they ran.

"The Shadow lord slipped in while every one was sleeping and slit everyone's throats."

"But the orphanage is on the east side?"

His father said no more and though he had a hate of the man, he felt his anger seep in with the realization.

When they came to the east side, there was no time to prepare. They were thrown head long into battle with the Saviour's soldiers whom he had stationed there recently. It had to be a blessing that the elite units were there to help them.

The fight had barely been going for twenty minutes when Antonio spotted someone heading to the town markets. He looked to be about his own height with green eyes and blonde hair.

This had to be the Shadow lord he had been trained to hate since birth.

He ran after the male, abandoning the fight to stop whatever plan that this man had. Trained meticulously, he caught up with no trouble and tackled the man to the ground. Neither male barely made a sound of protest, the blonde taking the brunt of the fall. But he happened to be fast and a fist connected with Antonio's jaw as the other scrambled out of his grasp. He got to his feet, turning his back on the Spaniard. Antonio got up as well after the shock of the hit, drawing his blade. He swung, aiming for the guy's shoulder, to maim him.

But there was a flash of light as the blonde turned back around and raised a gloved hand, stopping his sword with a shining shield that almost blinded Antonio. There was a suspenseful moment before the sword shattered and instead of falling forward, Antonio was pulled back, an arm around his torso, holding his arms in place and a hand on his mouth to stop any noise he might make.

"Calm down, da~ We might yet not kill you and feed you to the dogs~" There was a chilling chuckle in his ear.

"Settle down Ivan, aru…" A third voice added with a soft sigh. "it's no wonder people think we're the bad guy…"

"Sorry doroigi… you know I'm not serious."

The light before them went out and the blonde lowered his hand. "Thankyou Ivan…" He said. He had a different accent from the other two that sounded more northern. Antonio hadn't heard it before but he was more surprised at this man's appearance. The Saviour was some all powerful demon warrior, or so he had been told, and this person was maybe around Antonio's age, if not younger. His hair was messy, like he couldn't be bothered fixing it or he just couldn't fix it all together. His eyes were the same green, except they held a fire of some passion, which he duly assumed was evil, and rather thick eyebrows.

"Not a problem… so what do we do with him, Arthur~?" The colder voice asked in a childish kind of curiousness.

"Well, I for one, disagree with feeding him to Luddy's dogs." A fourth voice joined the fray and it came from above, appearing in the corner of Antonio's eyesight, an man with a pale complexion and white as snow hair dropped to the ground, a little yellow ball of fluff or feathers perched atop his head.

"Yeah… me too. What kind of plan is that?" Another blonde stepped into the scene, sweating and bearing a few wounds and walked over to Arthur, draping an arm over his shoulders. He was slightly taller but again, still slightly boyish in appearance. Maybe sixteen years old.

There was the sound of dogs barking and soldiers shouting, footsteps soon becoming heard.

"We can't take him… But we're NOT killing him." Arthur said, his tone that of definite finality. He was the one in command whether anyone liked it or not. His word was final. And he was the Shadow Lord. And he now turned to Antonio. "You are not going to die, so trust me and listen and hear me, Spaniard… we didn't kill those people. Look at our clothes… there is no blood on them. So look again at the Saviour's soldiers… Aren't their uniforms meant to be white or blue? So why are they red? You are being deceived."

That was it, there wasn't another word after that. It was just like they were gone after that. Antonio had no idea how suddenly they had disappeared. Even the person who had been holding him in place had vanished. And he had been left there, staring dumbly at the spot in which the ultimate evil of the world had stood… but he claimed trickery… He said… that the Saviour… the person who fought to free them, was in fact the evil one.

So many thoughts churned through his head, arousing conflicting emotions… Until a fist connected to the side of his jaw. He stumbled and his feet collided with each other, sending him to the ground. He was still in shock as he supported himself on his arm and looked up at his every angry father as he wiped a bit of blood away from the corner of his mouth, glaring at the man before him.

"You abandoned the fight! And you let HIM get away!" The elder Spaniard screamed in rage.

"I could not help it!" Antonio yelled back, defending himself. "I was just trying to help!" He huffed, that annoying part of him feeling hurt that he couldn't prove himself, telling him that he really was a worthless piece of shit just like his father said as he climbed unsteadily back to his feet. "And another thing…" The younger male blinked, frowning at his father's uniform.

"What? Lost your tongue?"

"N-no… there's blood on your uniform…" Antonio said dumbly.

"Of course!" His father glared. "From injuring one of the enemy… Like you failed to do!"

"But none of them had blood on them!" Antonio counteracted. He didn't know why… it went against everything he had ever believed or been raised to believe. "And… you have…" He looked around, a few of the Saviour's soldiers had blood on their cloaks and uniforms as well. "You only get blood on you when you've been hurt… or… you've… slit someone's throat…" He said the last part to himself more than to his father. Why? It made sense… He was piecing the pieces together, and then the image of families lying dead in bed flashed in his mind… Orphans that used to bring him water and food and little paper dolls when he was on look out to keep him entertained… throats slit, eyes closed, tanned skin pale…

"It was YOU!" He looked up and screamed at his father and the soldiers behind him. The man who had fed him so much hate all his life, growled and gave the order to KILL him! He yelled that he was a traitor.

And before he knew it, Antonio was running, the hounds on his heels. He had no idea where to go but he knew, the kind of man his father being, that he would blame everything on his failure of a son. Including the murders… who cared about the Shadow lord when you could blame Antonio and make yourself look good?

He had no time for anything… He managed to lose them for a short while, deserting his uniform for a simple shirt and pants, going barefoot as he snatched a sack and stole some bread and a flask of water, tossing it into the bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He knew he couldn't stay here, and he knew he had to leave. He had no idea where, but he wasn't keen on the idea of dieing right now.

Tying the sack over his shoulder, he climbed up a tree and onto the roof of the house it's branches reached. He moved as silent as he could from roof to roof, trying to stay hidden. It brought back memories… he had always played this game as a child, but his father had beat it out of him, repeating over and over that it was a useless trait of no use to him. How wrong he had been. It was helping him know, and it was helping him to survive.

He was near the edge of town when a soldier spotted him. Now he no longer cared for being quiet, jumping from roof top to roof top, waking up countless families, no doubt as he fled the new volley of arrows that came after him.

You'd think that something dramatic and inspiring would have happened. That while mid air from one roof to the next, the arrow of his own father would bring him down. Maybe it should have been a movie worthy thing, a heart wrenching moment between the hate of father and son.

But it wasn't. The horribly made arrow of an acne covered soldier pierced his side as he was running across a roof. He stumbled and cried out, but that same human desperation for survival made him cling to the hope of escape and he clambered back to his feet and ran once more. One roof… Two rooves! Three and then he jumped over the Eastern wall, hindered slightly by the arrow and his foot clipped the top of the wall, turning the graceful leaping arc into a spiral, and he crumpled to the ground as he hit it. He had never known how high the wall had truly been until now. But he was out of the town and it would buy him a few minutes to completely disappear. They would probably forget about him after awhile. It wasn't like he had really done anything. His father had just been looking for the right excuse to get rid of him, and he had found it.

The injured Spaniard winced as he sat up, moving under the cover of a large patch of mulberry bushes so he could pull the arrow out. He tore of the branch of one bush and cleared it before wrapping it in leaves and putting it in his mouth to bite down on. Sighing, and wanting to get it over with, he grabbed the arrow and began to pull slowly. Cursing himself as he winced, already biting down hard on the stick, he decided to forget about the pain for now and just get it over with. Grabbing hold one more time, he yanked it out, tearing the flesh slight and he did his best to muffle a groan of pain as he bit down harder than he thought possible.

He gave a moment for the shock of pain to pass and he pulled the stick out of his mouth, the leaves falling to the ground. Then he pulled the sack off his back and snatched the flask of water, splashing a bit on his wound and then drinking some. It was sealed and tossed back in the back along with the arrow, the stick and the leaves that he had used. He couldn't leave a trace behind.

He knew he needed to hurry, but not knowing how long before he could get a good meal, he gathered a few large leaves and filled them with mulberries, needing as much as he could get as he wanted to make that loaf of bread last as long as it could. The berries might not be much, but if eaten quickly the sweetness made you feel a little nauseous. Not the best way to feel, especially when escaping, but it gave the illusion of a full stomach and it meant he wouldn't eat for fear of being sick. Also not the most healthy for his body, but he could only do so much.

After he had about five large leaves with a pile of mulberries in them, he folded them and used some of the stringy bark to tie it together before putting all the parcels in his sack and tying the bag back on.

He did a quick check of the area to make sure there was no one looking for him and at last deemed it safe, moving out though keeping low for the time being. He wasn't satisfied he was out of the clear until he had travelled about half a league and he stood up straight, stretching, despite the pain of his wounds, and eased the cramped tension of his muscles. The horizon was tainted pink and he could see the sun rising. In a few hours, the whole town would rise and his father and the Saviour's soldiers, would tell them of his evil deeds... how he had laughed maniacally while ripping open the orphan's throats.

He sighed and shook his head. After only a few short but long hours, he had come to accept that it was behind him. Right now, he needed somewhere to rest.

As he walked, something made him smile. A real smile… The rising sun warmed his face… and though the circumstances horrible… he was free… out in the wide world he knew nothing about. If he had the energy he probably would have broken into a run. Instead, he kept searching for a safe place to rest.

As the sun rose it became higher and higher… Sweat prickled along his brow, hair sticking to his face and the back of his neck in an irritating fashion. He sighed, taking a drink of the water in the flask when he spotted a cave. It was a small cave with a knobbly, crooked looking opening. But it would be cool inside. He put the flask in the bag again and quickened his pace as he approached the smaller than he though cave. Oh well… He got on his hands and knees and crawled through the entrance into a large enough cavern, about the size of his bedroom… well, his old bedroom. It would do anyway… it appeared empty of any crazy convicts or wild beasts and he curled up in the far corner, embracing the coolness of the rock floor, hugging his bag close. The smell of the mulberries, the bag, the bread, the leather of the flask and the naturalness of the cave sent him to his dreams, which consisted of bright white lights that could turn weapons to dust like in the stories.

Not too much later, the sky dark orange by now, he felt something wet on his face. He couldn't be crying. But it was different, like a dog's kisses. Frowning slightly, he opened his eyes, which immediately widened in fear, and he stayed perfectly still. He had apparently fallen asleep in a wolf's den… that or the smell of his blood had attracted it. But it didn't seem all too fierce. Domesticated animals were rare, so it was an obvious wild beast.

It seemed suspicious of him, so not some friendly puppy like thing, and it bore scars from years of defending his territory. He shuddered softly at the smell of its breath and that's when it stopped and looked at him. In all his life, Antonio had never seen such wisdom as what he saw now in the wolf's eyes, its black-brown fur coarse with its history.

It didn't regard him much longer before backing away and sitting a few feet away from him. Swallowing, Antonio sat up slowly, biting his bottom lip as he leant against the wall and watched it back. It tilted it's head slightly, no longer seeing him as a threat, before dipping it's head and pushing something towards him.

Antonio frowned and looked at the object. It was a piece of meat, with a bit of coarse brown hair still on one side. Maybe a deer. When it was at his feet, the wolf sat back and looked at him again, it's pink tongue lolling out as it panted.

He'd never eaten raw meat before, but it made him smile, and he nodded. "Gracias… friend…" He smiled and picked up the piece of meat, it was about the size of his piece of bread. He was a little hesitant before he gathered the courage to take a bite. It was tough, stringy and dripping with blood. But it didn't matter at the moment. He realised as he took the bite just how hungry he was. It seemed like the polite thing, even to a wolf, to eat what it had offered, but he ate most of it anyway for the sake of his hunger. It wasn't even that bad as by the fourth or fifth bite he was use to it, and when he was done, he smiled, feeling embarrassed at his ravenousness and held the rest out for the wolf.

Again the creature regarded him suspiciously, before it snatched up the scraps and ate as if it hadn't eaten in days.

Antonio smiled as he watched it. The day his life had turned upside down, seemed to be full of smiles. But he couldn't help it. The wolf reminded him of himself. It was hungry, scarred and somewhat… a loner. He waited until the wolf was done before biting his bottom lip. He had nothing to lose. He stretched out his hand slowly and the wolf flattened it's ears. Antonio flinched slightly at that before turning his hand over to show his palm and held his hand out again.

The wolf regarded it, but it wasn't too long before it began to lick his fingers and Antonio smiled, waiting a moment before he scratched the wolf's chin. It seemed shocked at the action but didn't pull away. The Spaniard smiled and continued, working his way to the creature's shoulders and behind his ears. By now, Antonio was sure that if wolves could purr, this one would cause an earth quake. When he was done, it lay down beside him, resting it's head on it's two front paws.

Smiling, Antonio, sat back against the wall again and lightly continued scratching behind the animal's ears. He watched the wolf close it's eyes and drift off, staying close for warmth, though he could hardly believe it needed it what with all that fur.

"Gracias…" He whispered. "For finding me…"

It had only been two weeks since the wolf had come to him now. It had refused to let him out of the cave for the first couple of days. It puzzled him, but it seemed particular about cleaning the wound at his side each morning and night. And it was on the fourth day, when the wound began to close, that the animal let him out. So… maybe it was concerned for him.

Now, he was exploring the area, his feet just starting to toughen up to the terrain. He'd found a place to refill his flask, at a small stream about a mile north of the cave. The bread and berries were long gone, now he just ate what either the wolf brought back, or what he could find himself.

Currently, it was like the wolf was teaching him to hunt. It was laughable, but he found ways to use the animalistic techniques and it was helping him survive.

But a sound not so far away made them both stop following the deer. It sounded like a hunting horn. The deer seemed to realize this and attempted to bound away, but an arrow struck its side and it collapsed.

The wolf at his side let out a low growl, its ears laying flat against it's head. It probably would have bolted but it stayed at Antonio's side. The Spaniard himself was curious as to who had shot the arrow, so waited for the hunter to appear.

It was probably another five minutes before he did. It was a small hunting party. The saviour's soldiers and a man at the head. It was Antonio's father.

The Spaniard tensed as the man dismounted his horse and walked up to the wounded deer and ending the creature's life with his dagger before pulling the arrow out and re-sheathing it in his quiver. One of soldiers also dismounted and walked up to the silent male as the other soldiers mumbled amongst themselves.

"Sir…" The soldier said in hushed tones, but Antonio was just able to hear. "… I'm glad we have new supplies from this hunt, but we will not find your son. He was wounded and the smell of his blood has probably attracted a wolf or bear and he has fallen prey to it. The most I believe we will find is gnawed upon bones."

"Gnawed bones would be preferable, si… But we must make sure that my son is either dead, or will forget that night and return as a loyal servant to the Saviour. If not, he might spread wrong words of our Lord and even if few people believe his words, there will still be a change in peoples' minds. Do you understand?" Antonio's father gave the soldier a stern look and such a look crumbled the man's defences.

"Yes sir… Forgive my curiosity."

His father nodded and the soldier returned to his mounts. Now alone, the elder warrior frowned, as if speculating something, staring right past Antonio's bush. Curious, he stepped forward.

Antonio tensed; feeling trapped and searching for a way to escape, even thought there was obviously none. The wolf at his side sensed his unease around the approaching male and let out another throaty growl. Antonio did his best to quieten it silently, without alerting his father of their of presence, but the wolf ignored him and without warning, leapt from the bush, tackling his father to the ground.

Even surprised, the older Spaniard reacted quickly, holding his arm up under the wolf's neck to keep it's shredding teeth away from him and he pulled his dagger from his belt once more.

It wasn't an epic struggle, more of a five second suspense before the wolf yelped and crumpled… just dead, the life gone from it so simply.

Antonio couldn't help himself, crying out in sorrow and rage as he followed the wolf's action, attacking his father just as the man claimed his feet once more.

He was still weak from injury though and his father's strength never faltered, merely pushing the younger away. Antonio stumbled and waited a second before trying to attack him again. This time he merely got tossed to the ground.

He winced slightly as the flesh around his wound tore open again and the blood flowed again. He glared up at his father, already feeling exerted. He knew damn well what he looked like to them.

Feral. Exactly what his father despised.

Hair greasy, unkempt and messy. Clothes dirty, feet bare and the front of his shirt stained with animal blood.

"Disgusting…" His father sneered and drew out his sword. Apparently he had forgotten his earlier words, and was dead set on killing the younger male right now. The tip of the blade pressed to his neck and Antonio glared at the man above him. If death was coming for him then he'd take it. He wouldn't run, and if he couldn't fight, then he would die bravely and not cowering in fear.

And THEN something amazing and spectacular happened. It wasn't a awe worthy fight between him and his father. It wasn't a decisive struggle.

No, it was something amazing that happened at the right time.

A flash of white light, and his father was thrown backwards into the shrubbery. The saviour's soldiers were befuddled by it, but with a cry of rage at the new participant, the drew their weapons and charged.

Antonio was too bewildered to move as he watched the same young blonde from last night, sword in hand as he blocked and parried, bolts of white light from one of his gloved hands, sending the soldiers one by one into a sprawling mess. The horses whinnied in fear and scattered, soon disappearing with the thundering of their hooves. And when all lay still, the soldiers lifeless, Arthur looked down at Antonio, speculating him the same way the wolf had, before calling someone; he didn't quite catch the name.

The next minute passed before a boy with dark reddish brown hair stepped into the clearing with a bag, the albino from the previous night not far behind, looking around. He walked over to Arthur and started a conversation but Antonio didn't care what they were talking about.

The boy sat down beside him and opened his bag, pulling out some water, bandages and some cream in a jar. The Spaniard watched as he cleaned his wounds without question. Then he put the cream on them, which stung a little, before helping him to sit up and take his shirt off so he could bandage him. He was silent the whole time, but Antonio didn't really mind. The last thing he remembered doing was saying, "Gracias…"

The boy faltered in his work, only slightly before whispering back. "… Si…"

Antonio smiled and closed his eyes, leaning against the boy's shoulder as the part of his mind that was probably still active, drifted off.

/

Berwald sat bolt upright, feeling like he'd been underwater for days but unable to die. It was a horrible feeling and inescapable. The last thing he could truly remember was hurting himself in the sandstorm and the rest was a confused blur. Though, he sure as hell remembered that sand felt nothing like cool cotton sheets. And there hadn't been any space in their little shelter. Not to mention, Tino wasn't there either.

Frowning, he tried to see his surroundings and figure out where he was. But everything was blurry and when he felt his face, he confirmed that his glasses weren't there. The most he could gather by his sight and touch was that he was in a small bed, in a room, well lit by two or three windows. And the atmosphere had cooled considerably, compared to the heat of the desert.

Curious as to where he was, he lifted away the blanket that was over his lower half, swinging his feet over the edge and placing them on the floor firmly. He felt a little dizzy, but in his stubborn nature, ignored it and stood up. He fought to keep his balance, and even when he had won that gravitational battle, the floor still seemed to be moving. So, maybe he was on a boat or something… or he just wasn't as steady as he thought.

Not really caring for tentative steps, he just started walking forwards, and after about three steps there was a tug at his wrist and he slipped backwards, hitting the back of his head on the edge of the bed. He winced as he felt the fast growing bruise through his hair, before glaring down at his wrist. He had no idea how he had completely failed to notice the large iron cuff around his wrist, his vision now just making out the chain that linked it to the wall.

Oh goody… the first two words to enter his mind. So he wasn't on some boat or even in his home. He was a prisoner. A captive! And he had no idea how it happened since he'd fallen asleep.

It was around that time that the door to his room creaked open and he was able to shoot his most terrifying glare to the new source of light. Whoever it was that entered let out a soft, yet nervous giggle, and approached him in a relaxed manner. Next second the world around him came into a less blurry focus as did Tino's face. His glare disappeared, a little.

"Wh're th' h'll am I…?" The Swede asked as he was helped by the smaller male, back onto the edge of his bed. He was able to take in his surroundings now… as well as himself.

The room wasn't the largest, but it wasn't small either. It was spacey… made of a dark reddish brown wood. There were in fact, four windows in the room and the door, a small bedside table to his left and a wardrobe that was obviously empty, at the foot of the bed.

And he himself had a new change of clothes. Loose black pants and white shirt. At the end of the bed on the floor was a pair of black boots, like he had been expected to get up and walk around. Whoever had put them there was REAL smart.

"You're on the Shadow King's ship…" The small blonde said with a smile and Berwald's attention was back on him, along with a frown. Pressured by the taller man's expressions, as always, Tino gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head. "W-We're headed to his city…"

That caused the Swede to lose his expression. Part of this filled him with wonder. The Shadow King had kept his city hidden. So well in fact that no man had ever come across it via pure coincidence or when searching for it, making it something more of a myth and fairytale. If they were going to see it, he figured that he would be one of the first of the Saviour's soldiers to set foot inside. Leaving alive was another matter.

But what he did know about it and it gave him something to picture, was that the Shadow King, though obviously evil and murderous and no good, enjoyed gardens. So if you were lucky enough to set foot in his city, you would be graced with visions of tall marble pillars, statues and fountains, plants growing so wildly that it was lush and beautiful. Birds and animals not seen in hundreds of years still existed in this one place and roamed free and sacred. Exotic fish swam in the ponds and fountains where you could throw coins to them for good fortune before battle or offer bread crumbs for good health and dreams.

It didn't alter the fact that this was one of the only things that succeeded in scaring the man. He was petrified. Though yes, it would be a great honour to see inside this fabled city, even if it was that of the enemy, the most pure form of evil, it still scared him. And it wasn't the evil man that scared him. This city was unknown. Something believed as more of a fairytale and not as fact. Like the long forgotten past, it was a legend and didn't exist to him. To have what he had been taught and what he believed thrown right back in his face, was a terrifying thing. It only gave him grounds to believe what that albino had said to him, or what Tino had said to him, or even what that beguiling voice in the back of his head gave in soft whispers.

Maybe… everything was just one huge… mistake… was he fighting on the side of the people that had killed his wife… his child…?

His friends… Mathias and his lover… where they all being mislead…? Or had they known the whole time…

Had the Shadow King been there too late that day… had he tried to save his family…? Had the Saviour killed them?

"Berwald…? What's wrong?" Tino asked, tilting his head with a frown of concern as he looked up at him.

Berwald blinked and shook his head. "'M f'ne…"

No… he couldn't accept any of it. The Shadow king was evil. And if he was being given this opportunity, then he would take it. The Shadow King had taken the life of too many innocents, and for that he would pay. And Berwald would fulfil this duty to the Saviour at all costs, even if it cost him his own life.

/

_N'aaaaw such nice thoughts there dear Berwald. So what do you guys think eh? A lot of you were thinking Antonio was the Saviour. Betchya can't guess. Dun worry, it'll all come together, I'm introducing him again in the next chapter. –hearts you all- _


	8. Nameless, Named, Maimed

"**Alexander! Wait up!"**

"**I can't! Didn't you hear mama~! The Savior is coming in the morning!"**

"**I know! But mama said we have to get the water together!"**

**Slowing down while holding the bucket close, the elder of the two children smiled down at his younger brother, holding out his hand to take his own, gripping it slightly. "Ok, we'll go together Bjorn…"**

/

The nameless boy was paler than ever, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed kneeling, his lover a few feet ahead of him, looking at the floor in the same bow he had been holding for the past silent ten minutes.

Mathias himself was sweating slightly, shivering in nervousness as he waited to give his report. Never before had he been so afraid of the man who held all his hopes and dreams.

The Savior himself had begun to act very strange of late. At the moment, as concealed as ever in his white robes, he sat on the marble edge of an artificial pond, the ends of his delicate fingers of wisdom and power, traipsing across the surface and taunting the fish that swam below. After a while longer of silence, he lifted a floating lily out of the water and inhaled it's fragrance before sighing into the white petals, edges delicately tainted with pink.

"Dear Mathias… So what news~? Is the traitorous retch rotting in some dune somewhere~?" He asked, looking over the petals of the flower with taunting green eyes.

Mathias cleared his throat and in a shaky voice, gave his answer. "N-no… We could not find him… we… lost his trail in the sand storm and… We think he died during it…"

This had been the excuse that he and his Norwegian had come up with, praying to God that it would pass and be accepted. However the Savior's brow creased uncharacteristically as he scowled.

"So you didn't kill him, did you?"

Mathias swallowed and shook his head. "No… "

"And you only THINK he died in that storm…"

"Yes…"

"And without full certainty of his death, you come back here and lay waste to all my claims of your wondrousness..?"

Mathias was silent. He was the Savior's favored pupil and one of his greatest warriors. Now, his high opinions of him had sunk below any chance of regaining honor.

Sighing, the Savior actually gave a little smile. "I said there would be consequences Mathias… dear, Mathias~"

Without warning, his hand shot out from beneath his robes.

There was no sense of time or what had happened, yet Mathias heard a low whistle sing past his ear and then a noise of pain, sounding like it was a scream, caught in the back of someone's throat, cut off by blood.

Mathias thought it was him. But it wasn't. Looking, over his shoulder, he instantly wished he hadn't. His eyes went wide and his heart stopped. But he didn't remain as such for too long. He couldn't stay such a way in this situation. Immediately he was by his lover's side, holding him up so he didn't topple over, all that red, invading his vision. His breath was shaky, and he was trying to say something as he stared at the dagger in the smaller man's stomach. But nothing came out.

"M-Mathias…" The Norwegian's voice was unbelievably faint, but it was the shaking wet hand on his cheek that brought Mathias out of the sorrowful trance, and he looked at his lover's face. There was no scorn in his expression. He just saw that undying love, that fear, but it was sided with acceptance. So quickly he had accepted his death.

Mathias rested his own hand on his cheek softly, feeling tears on his cheeks before running his fingers through his hair. "Don't go… Please… I need you… I need… I'm so sorry…" Mathias had that need to say HIS name…. but he had no name to say… He couldn't believe he'd never have a name to say… and never be able to say it. There was no hope it seemed….

"Mathias… I… I think… A-Alexander… please… call me that…" Mathias looked at him before managing a small smile. He lifted his face slightly and brought his lips to his.

"I love you Alexander…"

There was a laugh behind them and Mathias looked over his shoulder, glaring at the man who had single handedly destroyed his life in one deft move. No! He hadn't. The emotion sparked among others and started a blaze.

All that respect and adoration he had had for the Savior vanished like the curling tendrils of smoke from a fire.

"Come on Mathias~ It's a lost cause now~ set him down and go clean up before tonight's banquet." The Savior let out some kind of melodramatic giggle and looked down at the lily once more.

And then Mathias climbed to his feet, holding his lover… Alexander, close to his chest.

Puzzled, the Savior looked to him before smiling. "Oh you really aren't going to make me do this are you…?"

With only a glare as his answer, he smiled with a sigh. "Oh alright, you have… ten minutes before I send the guards to claim your head. A minute for each year of service sounds fair. I'd say it's just a shame that the best warriors are all North men, but they ALL seem to be spies and traitors."

That was the only thing that sparked curiosity in Mathias at such a time.

ALL North men? That didn't mean that others had deserted him did it? None the less, he stowed his curiosity away for a later date. His ten precious minutes were ticking away and if by some miracle he could find a safe place to save… to save Alexander.

He did however, stop to say one last spiteful thing. "The Shadow King will destroy you and when he does, I'll be there to see your demise, whether as his warrior or as a spirit, I don't care. I will not rest until I see you drown in your own blood." And then he turned and ran, through the corridors and out of the palace, past the horses and camels and throwing himself into the dirty and dusty streets of the desert city where all this had begun.

/

"I apologize for the cuffs, but Ludwig was suspicious of you, aru…"

Berwald frowned as the wound the Asian male was attending to, stung. He didn't really offer any replies, not wanting to make small talk. And in all truth, he believed that the very feminine male didn't mind, too caught up in his work. Though a different person had come in earlier to change his bandage and give him some food and water.

They hadn't been so friendly and wore a constant pout. It was annoying… but similar to the way his constant glare either humored people or frightened them.

And speaking of frightening, was the tall guy shadowing 'Yao' as the medic had been asked to be called. Every time the Eastern male changed his position in the slightest or stood to retrieve something from his bag, the much taller male, with the rather childish face, moved as well. He was just like his shadow. And Berwald, if one to gamble, would have bet his life that they were romantically involved, seeing as the tall man, Ivan, never came in with anyone else. Tino was also there, but he looked bored.

He had no idea why the boy kept hanging around. They were out of the desert and he had his freedom. Maybe he was just escaping swabbing the poop deck or something.

Tino might have been bored, but Berwald wasn't. A bit miffed that he was attached to a wall, but not bored. He could hear the sea rolling outside and smell it. He could hear the sails billow up in the wind. And he thought he'd heard the sound of a string instrument and someone singing, following the smashing of a bottle and a drunken chorus of three voices combined in a horrid yet entertaining melody.

But that was hours ago, so it wasn't quite as interesting. And now, finally, Yao was satisfied with his handiwork.

"There! You'll have a bit of a scar, because skin doesn't exactly grow back smooth… but it shouldn't be too long. And because you have the right, Ludwig should let you out for a walk, under supervision of course, aru…" the medic smiled cheerfully as he packed away his belongings, the creepy guy behind him smiling with what the Swede suspected in a reserved warmth.

Tino smiled as well, climbing to his feet and stretching with a yawn.

"That should be fun, right Berwald~!" He giggled softly.

Said man shrugged kind of blankly. "Uh… s're…"

/

The ten minutes had long since passed and Mathias had resorted to taking back alleyways. Half an hour had passed since the Savior had struck Alexander, and the platinum blonde was barely clinging to life, surprising Mathias, but he didn't question whatever god, goddess or fate would be making this possible. It gave him time. And he had been able to remove the dagger, sheathing it in his belt, and cover the smaller man's wound as best he could.

But despite the small blessing of his barely there consciousness, Alexander was weak, and losing too much blood. He had begun shivering, cold even in the desert heat and the Dane held him close to keep him warm as he darted through alley ways.

It was all going well, until he came to a dead end. There were no extra turns and he could hear approaching foot steps near the way he had just come. Seething in frustration, he felt like kicking something. And then by chance, a very well hidden door became clear in his vision. With no other options, or knowledge of what was beyond the door way, he used his back to push open the door way, being careful not to trip on his way inside as he felt a rug beneath his boots, and closed the hidden door with the toe of his foot.

He stepped back slowly, once, twice, as he heard the soldiers pass the entrance to the alleyway without further ado, no cause for suspicion.

He sighed in relief…

And then someone behind him let out a faint cry.

Swallowing, he turned around, coming face to face with a woman. Her hair was short silver blonde and she had a rather large bust, tears at the corners of her eyes.

All she could see were their uniforms and it was enough to petrify her in fear. Failing to think properly, Mathias stumbled over his hushed words a bit.

"Madam… please… you must help us." He pleaded, knowing he sounded like a senseless madman.

"J-J-Just take what you want. Leave me alone, ok? I-I-I-I didn't do anything wrong." She whimpered and Mathias shook his head, stepping forward, as if it were that he was trying to give Alexander to her, rather than explain without words.

"Please… Help us! Alexander is injured and if they catch us… If they catch us they'll kill us both."

Something about his tone, or maybe the fact that the blood had become apparent to her, but some of her visible fear melted away. She looked to the door, before nodding and beckoning to follow. He did.

There were stairs, but she didn't take him up them. Instead she lead to underneath them, pulling back a book shelf and kicking aside a rug to reveal a trap door. She opened it and pointed down.

"Go down there. There's m-medical supplies… I'll be down soon… I think they're knocking on doors."

Mathias nodded once before he tightened his hold on Alexander and disappeared into a dug out room. He quickly rest his lover on a small bed to the side and lit a candle shakily before the woman closed the trap door and he heard her move the rug and shelf back.

The Dane watched the trap door for a few short moments before lighting about four more of the candles that were scattered around the room, before searching for and finding a box with medical supplies in it. He didn't realize how much he was shaking until he picked the box up and heard all the glass bottles in it chink against each other.

"C-Calm down…" Alexander's faint voice caught his attention and he sat on the bed beside him.

"Don't talk… Rest… save your energy for surviving… not on talking to me…" Mathias bit his lip before rummaging through the box, pulling out anything he might need.

"Y-You think th-that is possible… s-s-surviving…?"

Mathias was silent; his lips usually soft with laughter were hard and set in a grim line. "I don't think… I know…"

/

Barely five minutes outside… And Berwald wanted back in… He wanted to be chained to a thousand walls. Because there was no formality. No uniform. No… nothing!

Sure, everyone had their job to do, but… there were no rows of soldiers ready for anything. As said before… there was no nothing!

First of all, there was some freakin albino with a mug of beer, singing bad songs in the crows nest. Apparently… he thought he was the most awesome being on the planet… and this planet was the most awesome one on the universe… because he decided it was where he would live.

Some guy in a mask started bantering with this sleepy looking guy… though he seemed really easy pissed off and hence, no more sleepy guy. Really pissed of insane person in his place. It kind of reminded him of how Mathias would pick on that Norwegian about his looks, height, namelessness…and then the devil would be unleashed on them. Even if Berwald was a part of it, he learnt to stay out of the cross fire or flee.

Among all the craziness, he immediately picked out who Ludwig would have been. About a head shorter than himself with his hair gelled back and walked around giving orders, a large black and brown dog at his side. The obvious leader AND the guy that wanted him in chains and with an escort.

Minus the chains, Berwald's escort was Ivan… and technically Yao as well, since he made some excuse about not wanting to be apart… If Mathias were there, he would have pulled a face and made a few snide comments.

Nonetheless, despite his lover, Ivan was on high alert, keeping his eye on Berwald, wary but… relaxed?

The Swede was just glad he didn't react when some guy with long blonde hair slapped his arse and ran. He thought he might have been pummeled by Ivan if he stepped out of line. All he could do was huff in annoyance as a comment was made that his arse was perfect for slapping. And later thus sparked a conversation between the slapper and the drunken albino… and Berwald really wished he had not overheard. He didn't need mental imagery of what they thought his arse was like in bed.

It made him begin to think that this might not be so worth it after all.

/

Katuyasha was shaking softly. The two men she was hiding now where the same ones she had seen from a distance, trying to kill Tino. Her common sense told her to turn them away. But her good nature said it was the right thing to do.

A knock on the door caused her to jump and calming herself, she went to answer it. Opening the door, she found her fears confirmed as she saw the Savior's soldiers firing questions at her. She had no choice except for to answer all their questions

/

Below, in the basement, Mathias listened as best he could to the conversation, rather interrogation that the woman was being given by the Savior's soldiers. She seemed to have a well revised alibi or such for if caught in such a situation, or so it seemed. As she had quivered in fear much when he had burst in, and now it appeared her voice was steady and calm, somewhat in a pleasant clueless way.

He sighed and turned back to Alexander who was watching him. The Dane smiled, more real than his earlier smiled. For now they were safe, and that had been his goal. Somehow, the placid male gathered his own strength to give a soft smile of his own and did his best to move into a better position as his lover cut away his bloodied shirt, leaving him in just his pants and boots.

Mathias might not have been a medical miracle, but he was practiced in basic first aid and medicine. So he did a fairly good job of cleaning Alexander's wound and getting a needle and thread, managing to calm his shaking to get a precise stitch.

Alexander flinched, feeling the pain, but the rush of endorphins numbed it enough and he focused his attention on the ceiling, not wanting to see his stomach being stitched back together. He had accepted he would die, but Mathias had this hope that never faulted. It was sided with the acceptance. He too had accepted the Norwegian's death, but he hoped and prayed that it would not come to pass.

It didn't take too long for Mathias to finish and he let out a shaky sigh as he broke the thread and began to clean up, bandaging the wound. Despite the situation, he was proud of his handiwork. And it had stopped the bleeding. A good sign.

When he had packed away everything and set it where he had found it, he took up his position beside Alexander again. The smaller man had his eyes closed and was quite still. But he was only sleeping. Mathias could hear his soft breaths and saw the rise and fall of his chest.

He gave a sad smile before leaning over and kissing his forehead, pulling over a folded blanket and laying it across him. He sighed softly as Alexander shifted a bit.

"Is he ok…?"

Mathias gave a start and looked over his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed the woman come down.

"… Yeah… For now… What about you… you took a great risk in helping us… Did they give you too much trouble?" He asked, but his real question was, You didn't give us away, did you?

"… no…They left quite quickly… May I ask… why were they after you?"

Mathias paused, wondering if he could trust her. Why not, she was risking her own life for them. He'd seen first hand, being the one to arrest them, what happened to those harboring fugitives. It was worse than what the fugitives got themselves. Everyone knew that.

So knowing it himself, he sighed and started from the very beginning.

/

_Hey guys, I gave you all a MAJOR hint as to who the savior is. Let's see if you noticed. _

_There'll be more of Mathias, Alexander and Katuyasha in the next chapter, but I'll definitely keep jumping back to Berry and Tino. So don't you be thinking I've forgotten them. Lol_

_Lots of Love for you all~ -hearts- _


	9. In an old Guy's bed

"Are you all ready….?" Mathias looked up from the equipment infront of him on the table. Leaning against the wall on the back of the table was a mirror, that he was using.

Katuyasha had asked the question. Behind her, on the couch beneath the window that showed the city at night time, sat Alexander, who was leaning against the arm of the lounge, struggling to stay awake let alone upright. It had barely been two days since he was wounded, and really, everything was a bit of a struggle for him right now.

Just at the moment, he was allowing himself rest and had his eyes closed, features relaxed, every now and then, pain contorting them in the slightest.

"Almost…" Mathias replied and looked back to Katuyasha before to the mirror again.

The plan was to escape the city. The woman was coming with them. She wanted out, and if they wanted to find the Shadow king, then she was their only hope. Their map.

The problem was, they were bound to come across travellers. And Mathias was a well known warrior, even if the Saviour now slandered his name. And one of his key features, was his blonde hair, uncommon in many regions, that was always unruly and spiked.

It was how he liked it, but they needed to get to the Shadow King soon as possible. And he would make any sacrifice for Alexander's survival.

Sighing, he picked up the sheers from the table and swallowed before lifting his hand.

/

Berwald had seen one of the most amazing things in his lifetime today.

A jumping bean.

Actually, it was Antonio, the captain of the ship. Actually, he was the entire crew. Berwald never guessed why until he saw the man roll up his pant legs, and his sleeves, pick up a rope and soon he was flying through the air to bring the sails in, gliding through the air from post to post, from mast to mast. Eventually all the sails were up and he was back behind the wheel in the blink of an eye, letting the current bring them into port.

'Port' was a large cavern, where he anchored the ship. A great curtain of vines was let down over the entrance to hide their presence and Berwald had to give his eyes a moment to adjust. There were pathways lit by lanterns all along the cavern walls. Sometimes there would be a door or window.

As he stared on in awe, there was a chuckle at his side, and he closed his mouth.

Ivan, who was holding the chain of his cuffs, which he had to wear now there were escape options, explained his thoughts to him.

"This is the boat village. It branches off of the city. They've carved their homes into the face of the cavern and supply the city with fish, nets, ocean treasures and other things." The Russian smiled and lead him over the ramp that had appeared, to a solid rock ground. After lord knows how long on the water, he felt unsteady. But he wasn't the only one. He saw Tino stumble a bit as he grew accustomed to the solid ground once more.

Feeling eyes on him, the fin looked at him, and Berwald looked away. He reminded himself, that no matter how nice Tino was to him, or even how cute the boy was, he was here to offer revenge to his family, not get involved in an infatuation. And even if he wanted to be with Tino, or offer some kind of relationship, which HE DID NOT, he repeated to himself, then it wouldn't matter. He would be dead soon anyway or if he succeeded in his goal, then he would hate him in the end.

"Right… It's a bit of a walk to the main city, si… so follow my lantern…" Antonio smiled and lit a red lantern, that let off a bloody glow, and with his arm around his lover's waist, Lovino pouting but not protesting and blushing wildly, began to make his way to where Berwald assumed the path to the city was.

Least to say, he was never once bored in sight. For a village inside a cavern, it was anything but dull and dim.

/

Alexander held tightly onto Mathias. He had dozed off back at Katuyasha's house on the lounge, and when he had woken… he had hardly recognized Mathias.

The Dane had cut his hair short and fluffy, but keeping a fringe to cast his eyes out of focus. He'd then taken black clothe dye and used it in his hair. The effect wasn't bad, black hair, blue eyes… but he wasn't used to it. He loved Mathias' blonde, wild hair… Styled, black hair, just gave him a cold exterior in some way. But he had been assured that the colouring was only temporary and once it was blonde again, Mathias would grow it back the way it had been.

Now it was midnight and they were hurrying through the streets. Mathias was dressed all in black, boots, pants, shirt, cloak… Alexander was fairly close. He had boots, pants and a coat. But he'd had to take his hairpin off and pocket it, tying his hair back in a sort of ponytail, that was more of a little tuft at the back of his head, tied together with a chord. And over his clothes he had to wear a to the knee jacket borrowed from Katuyasha. People mistook him for a girl often, as mentioned before, and they decided to play on that. If anyone saw them, then he would claim to be a woman. If people asked why he was weak, then they would claim he was with child, and merely suffering the first few months of pregnancy.

It was liable, and truthfully… if they were able to get out of the city and to wherever they had to be, then Alexander didn't care what or who people said he was.

After about half an hour of creeping along at a brisk pace, they came to the public stables, where horses and camels could be 'hired' and bought by the city folk. This was where Katuyasha worked, cleaning the office and keeping the animals happy, making sure their tack and gear was up to any challenge.

It also meant that she had a key to come in a check on the animals… or steal them away.

Now, for a desert trip… Camels would have been ideal. The desert mounts would consume less water and would be happy grazing off of desert shrubs. But the trio needed to be swift and after the desert, Katuyasha said that there was much forest land and grasslands ahead of them, as well as the mountain ranges with snow capped peaks. As durable as camels were, they were not as diverse in environments as horses were. So in the dead of night, Katuyasha lit one solitary candle as they entered the stables, saying a hushing hello to a few of the beasts to keep them calm.

She did a quick routine, being of a loving and gentle nature, feeding them for the last time, as if she were farewelling good friends or cherished children. When she was done, she lead Mathias and Alexander to the back of the stables where she said the five most durable and steadfast horses were. These were the horses reserved for wealthy or people of importance.

She herself lead out and tacked a large chocolate stallion with white fur around his hooves. Mathias helped Alexander with a lithe snowy mare and he himself got a stormy grey Stallion.

Because Alexander was still injured, he would ride with Mathias until the wound had improved. So for now his mare would be used to carry their packs and equipment.

It took a short few twenty minutes to ready them selves before leading the horses to the edge of the city, coaxing them with handfuls of hay, as they didn't understand why they were being taken, and then mounted, Mathias holding Alexander infront of him as he took the reins. The mare's reigns were tied to Katuyasha's saddle.

And then… they were off… a light trail of dust was all that was left behind them. And even that disappeared as it settled over their tracks, a light night time breeze granting them a favour as it erased their trail.

/

"How are you feeling?" Alexander looked up from the small bed at his lover, always at first confused with who he was because of the change of appearance. But his voice was the same. It was the same, just like his eyes. It was Mathias.

"U-Um… I'm fine… tired… but… I feel better than I did earlier… now that we're out…" He said softly, and didn't attempt a smile because it wasn't in his nature to be like that.

They had been travelling for nearly a full day, and Mathias had managed to navigate them to a base they had been told about when they were stationed in the city. There was one guard, but he was easily rendered unconscious, much to the shock of Katuyasha who's eyes welled up with tears at the sight.

Nevertheless, them finding the base was a good sign, as Katuyasha had barely enough food or money for more to support the three of them on this journey. Now here, they were able to raid the small stock of private food.

Mathias gathered enough to fill three sacks. Only making a small dent in the supplies so that other stranded officers would be able to find it and eat, and that the guard, when he woke, would not starve to death. They might be deserting these men, changing sides and one day fight against them if given the chance, but they weren't going to kill unless they had to.

Just because they didn't know the guard didn't mean that they hadn't fought together in the same battle, bled for the same cause. Now, they wouldn't, but it still didn't feel right. You couldn't become completely separated from your clan in a few mere hours or days.

Right now, they had bound the guard who was slowly coming to, and they had decided to stop for a few hours, gathering fresh medical supplies as well, and giving Alexander a chance to rest.

"Good…" Mathias smiled a little, breaking Alexander out of his thoughts.

"Not good… I hate being a hindrance… I'm slowing you down…" It hadn't meant to come out sounding like it did, but it was too late to take back the subconscious meaning.

Mathias sighed and shook his head. "We've been through this before… I'm not leaving you behind. It's a miracle that you've survived the dagger… and now you think I'll so readily leave you behind… Yes, we go slower than we could for you… but that's our choice. So just accept it already."

The Norwegian, though having mistakenly spoken his words as such, felt shame darken his face and he looked away. He didn't say anything back, because he knew he'd lose if he started and argument about the matter.

He blinked in surprise, looking up at Mathias when he felt the Dane's warm lips on his forehead. Those lips travelled down, kissing his cheek, nose then mouth, and he gathered all his reserves of energy to kiss back. The hair still creeped him out, but it was his Mathias, the man he loved. No stupid hairstyle was going to stop him from loving him.

The base they were in had the underground storage chamber, the main room and the guard's sleeping quarters, which were small and a small stable.

That was where Alexander and Mathias were now. The guard was in the chamber and Katuyasha had said she's sleep on the floor in the main room, the horses were in the stable to the side.

Alexander thought at this moment, that he couldn't be more grateful for the privacy. This kiss wasn't something he wanted to share even with animals. It was just for him and his lover.

It took longer than usual for the kiss to develop into more, but Mathias soon knelt over him on the mattress, kiss long since broken as he began to mark his neck, the pale skin bruising easily and forming the dark love bites.

The pain his wound made, caused by every movement, was easily ignored. But deft, warm hands, remained gentle around it as they removed his clothing, piece by piece, worshipping his body in all the ways he loved. The bandages were unable to be removed, but it didn't matter. Only Mathias did… He hated being such a pessimist, but suppose this journey went horribly wrong and they died… or worse than that, only one of them did. They would part ways and never be near one another again until death.

These thoughts were a constant whisper in the back of his mind, taunting him daily without rest.

But with the passion, desire and love his heart and mind were focused on now, he was able to tune them out. And with all the fluidity of motion, it became skin against skin, feverish touches and synchronised movements.

Warmth became his entire being and he knew that he must be alive, for it was not the deathly cold fingers of death he was so sure he'd felt too many times since this had begun.

Every sound Mathias made was like angel's singing to him. His slender fingers trailed along the Dane's back and through the blackened hair as he was pushed back into the mattress again and again.

And while his whole mind felt like it was on fire with the universe revolving around them, he was unable to help but think back to when he had first met Mathias.

He'd been more boyish then. And he'd hated to admit it, but he was cute. No matter how annoying he'd been. Mathias always asked what made him give in to him in the end, not that he was complaining or anything. Alexander never answered.

It was his secret. He was intent on taking it to his grave. When anyone asked what the reason was… why he loved the Dane with a passion that could not be swayed. Why he'd follow him through anything with no limit to his loyalty.

He'd never tell them.

He'd never say that it was because it was any one trait of Mathias. But it was all of him. Everything about him…

Amazing, beautiful, loving, gentle, caring Mathias… He was all of this and more. He was his friend, lover, protector and everything he could possibly be to him.

And those hands... those hands that held him now… those fingers that satisfied his wants… they were the fingers and hands that had healed him, held him and crafted for him.

After all, his Mother wasn't the _**ONLY**_ reason he kept that hairpin so close.

/

_^/^ wow, I don't know what this is but I love it. Next chapter we shall meet LE SAVIOUR! Aren't you all relieved you finally meet him…? Don't you feel like punching me for making you wait for so long?_

_Actually, I want to punch myself for revealing him so early, but I thought of the most perfect way to introduce him into the story, and you'll be confused for a while, but It'll definitely be clear at the end of next chapter. Well, half way through it… because then I'll jump back to our travelling trio and then to Berry and Tino and our beloved Swede shall meet the person he wants to keel soo baaaad! _

_^^ And a whole other array of cast may throw him off course as well. I'm also going to start expanding the SuFin relationship next chapter aswell. It's all happening faster than I thought, but hey, It's still going to be one of the longest stories I've written. ^^_

_Lotsa love~_

_me_


	10. Cow in a Bog

"Liet… you said we were leaving tonight… why the change in plan…?"

Dressing himself, the man looked over his shoulder at the blonde on the couch. He was meant to be a tailor for the Saviour but he never took his work seriously, and probably spent more time on making elaborate clothing for himself. This was Feliks. And Toris, the man getting dressed, fell in love all over again whenever he saw those green eyes, half hidden by stray golden strands.

"I know I did, but she came back earlier than expected… So just behave until she goes out again… you know she only lets me keep you because I agreed to stay with her… so if I break my promise while she's here then we only endanger ourselves… so be patient already…" Feliks sighed, but said nothing more for a while, drinking in the other's features.

His eyes were green as well, though lighter and not as vibrant a shade. And he wore his unruly chocolate hair back in a ponytail with a green strip of cloth. And his skin, while still pale like his own, was of a more olive complexion. This in Feliks' opinion was unbearably sexy and as duly noted, made for great sex.

"Alright… but you'd better come back later whether she lets you or not. I don't like sharing you…" The Pole pouted and his counterpart laughed softly, bending over as he finished with the buttons on his shirt and kissing him softly. It was sweet and innocent. It wouldn't lead to more, because Toris was pressed for time to go and Feliks had things to do as well.

"I will… I promise…" Toris smiled and kissed his lover once more before turning and leaving. If he didn't he might get into serious trouble as he might not be able to turn away.

He was pretty sure he heard Feliks grumble about lack of unfairness, but then he was gone, quickly tidying himself up as he paced along the long corridors, leaving the south wing for the north of the manor.

In ten minutes he came to a white door with ornate gold lacings of roses and vines that curled around the handles. He sighed and knocked softly before turning the handle and stepping into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood at the door silently, waiting to be answered. As he did so, he watched her across the room.

She stood in an ivory dress, the neckline in an elegant V shape to flaunt her voluptuous breasts. The dress went to the floor, but split down the middle of the front from halfway up her thighs, showing off her legs. She wore gold sandals and there was a green silk sash around her waist to keep the outfit together.

The sleeves of the dress came down to her knuckles in a kind of rounded V shape and she'd painted her nails a lovely metallic olive green since he'd last seen her.

Around her neck was a gold band with a green as forestry emerald sat proud. Golden brown wavy hair fell perfectly across her back, a few curly locks across her chest. Eyes the same green as his made brighter by the black, gold and green eye paints she loved to use. And, in her hair, holding her hair away from her left eye, was a beautiful lily ringed in pink. The same lily as the ones in the vase beside her.

Red lips smiled, knowing exactly how she looked. She knew that he preferred Feliks, so it was one of her greatest pleasures to catch Toris off guard like this.

Even he could not deny her beauty and thus she would have her way with him.

"It's so good to see you my lord…" She smiled again, the way she introduced him humouring her. "You approve?"

"I… those flowers… they're beautiful…"

"You like them…? I brought them back from Egypt…"

Toris smiled… "Did anything interesting happen there…?"

She smiled coyly, beckoning him closer. "Oh… you could say that…"

/

Alexander winced as Mathias helped him up, an irritated hand pressing against his bandages as he struggled with help to get dressed.

"Are you all right…?" Mathias asked, concern forming on his face, along with a frown.

"Y-Yes… I just think part of it reopened…" The smaller of the two said as he yawned a little. He and Mathias hadn't gotten to sleep till very late and Katuyasha had woken them at dawn. It had been the plan to wake so early, but it had been the plan for a night of indulgence to occur.

Mathias sighed as he pulled his shirt on. "We shouldn't have done that last night… so soon after you've been injured…" The Dane had a shameful look in his eye. And he felt ashamed of it, like he'd taken advantage of the other, even though they both knew that wasn't true.

"No… don't worry about it… I wanted it… and if we're going to grasp any sort of normality, bringing it back into our lives, then why not start with that…?" Alexander gave a tired smile, something very out of character for him, but it caused relief to flood through and extinguish a majority of Mathias' fears.

"What… start with sex in some old guy's bedroom…? Completely normal…"

Alexander threw the one pillow they'd managed to share at the taller man who caught it and laughed warmly, setting it back down on the bed. But despite the really weird side of that… they both knew right then and there what the Norwegian had truly meant. Mathias sharing some good Old Danish humour and Alexander finding the remark not at all funny.

It was like any other morning… like the way it should have been…

Mathias smiled, flicking some of that not-so-creepy-any-more black hair out of his eyes and leaned forward to kiss the smaller male softly before pulling his cloak on and help Alexander stand up. "Hey… I'm taking this as a good sign you know…" He said… taking the younger in his embrace.

"What…?" Alexander asked, looking up at him…

"That, and don't take this the wrong way… But if you just survived last night's sex and wake up with your old attitude…. Then you must be destined to live through this…"

Alexander cursed and blushed ferociously, but merely hid his face in the other's chest. "Moron…"

/

The village wasn't as close as Berwald had thought. They had had to stop in a cavern hotel, strange as it was. It had been built there as means for travelling to and from the main city. And they had all stopped there because they were tired and hungry.

So now, it was probably dawn out in the wide world, Berwald was laying on his back, staring at the stone roof and walls. He was having a hard time sleeping. There weren't any windows and the flame in the oil lamp was burning out again. It was making him feel a little claustrophobic.

Again he had been chained to the wall, which annoyed him, but it made sense. And he almost leapt out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door. He wasn't a man easily scared. But he was feeling uncomfortable and his nerves were on edge.

"Wh' 's 't…?" he asked, sitting up and putting his glasses on. The door creaked open and Tino stepped in with a glass of water and bowl of what smelt like something related to soup.

"Just me… A few of them are already up and getting breakfast together before we wake everyone else up and keep going." The Fin smiled a little and carried the glass and bowl over to the Swede, setting them on the bedside table with a spoon. The soup stuff was chunkier, like a stew. Not exactly breakfast, but he wasn't complaining.

He was starving and took the bowl almost immediately, eating it ravenously.

Tino just stood by, looking awkward or uncomfortable or something. He was waiting for Berwald to finish, or so the man thought. He didn't really understand the smaller male. But when he was done, he drank the water and set the empty bowl and cup on the table again.

Tino walked towards them before hesitating and sitting down beside the taller, taking his injured hand and carefully unwrapping the bandage. Berwald didn't object, merely watching him curiously as he traced the edges of the wound with gentle fingertips.

It had healed amazingly, but stung a little at the touch. But at the same time, the touch was soothing, making him calmer than he was before.

"Berwald… Please don't kill the Shadow King…"

The Swede blinked, surprised and frowned a little as he looked at the smaller, who was looking up at him with a sadness in his eyes.

"I see it in your eyes… whenever someone mentions him or something to do with him… You're eyes fill with hate and your face hardens…" The small male bit his lip, before asking, "Why do you hate him so much…?"

Berwald's breath caught in his throat. Again, as always at the thought, the screams of his wife and child being murdered rang clear in his ears. His friends had spent years trying to get him to tell them what happened. But right now, after only the first question of it, he felt the need to make the Fin understand his loathing of the Shadow King.

Some, insane part of him begged him to tell him, make him understand, so he wouldn't hate him for his decisions after. It was a crazy hope… so insane… that he had no idea in the end why he told Tino.

He told him everything… He told him about his wife and child. He told him about The Shadow King standing over their estranged bodies. The blood… burying them… and the words.. the words the Shadow king spoke to him before disappearing.

'_I was counting on you being here sooner'_

He told him about ready on giving up, but the Saviour had found him at his lowest and given him a reason to continue. Avenging his wife and son was his only purpose.

He thought, after telling Tino all of that that he would have understood. But the Fin merely rewrapped his wound and stood, looking at him sadly.

"Are you so sure it was him…?"

And then, feeling a twinge of betrayal and hurt, Berwald frowned. "Wh' d' y' d'fend h'm?"

"I… All my hopes rested on the Saviour as well Berwald… I thought if I did everything in his will, if I lived to serve him… then all would be well… He'd take the evil out of this world and make it good again… but… he took me away from my home… from my family… he made me a slave… So tell me this… Are your dreams of peace and rest of slaves, torture and rape? Because I've had enough of that life… And if I have to die to escape it… then so be it." Tino was on the verge of tears. A stray one spilling over the edge and running down his cheek.

It didn't take a genius to piece it all together, and once he had, Berwald looked at Tino, a frown forming…

"Th't… h'ppened t' y'… b'c'use of h'm…?"

Tino was so close to breaking down right now, but he managed to not burst out into tears as he nodded before going to turn away.

On a moment of complete impulse, Berwald stood and reached out, grabbing the smaller hand, gripping it firmly with his own. Tino, being completely caught off guard, looked up at the taller man, shaking a little under his gaze.

Remembering that horrible time of his life… where he was so easily used by those in any position… all had power over him… and he felt weak… worthless… dirty…

And Berwald… didn't exactly know what he was doing… he had wanted to make Tino understand him… but he somehow ended up understanding Tino.

"I… I n'ed pr'of th't h' w'sn't th' one who d'd 't… I c'n't st'p h'tin' h'm 'til I kn'w… b't… I do b'lieve y' 'bout th' s'viour…" He didn't need to say the rest. They both knew he wouldn't kill the Shadow King… without the proof he had done the misdeeds… until he had proven who had murdered his family and made them pay… he needed that vengeance for them… Tino knew that… But… turmoiling emotions refused to rest until Berwald knew who it was… he needed this.

Tino nodded, blushing a little before wrapping his arms around him tightly and hiding his face.

"Thankyou…" The Fin whispered.

Berwald just blinked, absolutely taken aback by the smaller man's actions. This embrace… this hug was foreign… How many years had it been since he'd had any form of intimacy. But…

Even if he may have forgotten them… The emotions he'd once known were there, brushing at the fringes of his heart and mind… Slowly… awkwardly and hesitantly, he raised his arms and held them around Tino, lightly at first before his hold tightened. He didn't need words for this either.

He was going to keep him safe. Making sure that such things never happened to him again.

And… with this rush of forgotten emotions… he couldn't deny it as much as he wanted to or tried to… and frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to deny it anymore… he wanted Tino to be his… And he wanted Tino to accept him… He wanted to feel love, trust and family once more… even if it meant never having children again… he wanted to love like he had… he wanted to be his old self…

He wanted… Tino.

/

They had been walking for about three hours in the dark tunnels before a very tiny pinprick of light appeared at the end. And for those three hours, Tino had been walking alongside Berwald silently and holding his hand.

No one questioned this. A few, knowing smiles, it seemed, were cast their way, but that was it. It seemed that it was accepted or in the very least, expected of them. Not even Ivan minded or questioned it, the Russian only a few short steps ahead of Berwald, holding the chain as he chatted happily with Yao.

As the light grew closer and closer, Tino leant his head against Berwald's arm hesitantly, with a little blush. He knew that the older was a man of silence, but so close to the fabled city, he felt the need to at least speak himself.

"I was told we'd be going to England… That that's where the city was… but I saw on the maps that it's too far north to be this warm, even underground… And it didn't take as long as it should have to cross that distance… Where do you think we are?" He whispered softly, looking up at him, a little smile tugging playfully at the corners of his lips.

Berwald, after being so silent for so long, blinked at the sudden start of conversation, and looked down at the smaller male.

"I d'un kn'w… N't f'r fr'm wh're w' w're…"

"So… maybe Greece, or Italy?" Tino giggled softly. "A place nice and warm… but with beaches and grass and fields… Mm…" He smiled a little, a sad look coming to his features. "… It's been so long since I've seen grass… Or a beach… not since I was a child… What about you?"

Berwald frowned. He'd been a soldier, an elite in fact with Mathias and the Norwegian. They travelled all the time. He saw everything. Green fields, farms, mountain ranges, beaches, rivers, deserts, forests, jungles… absolutely any landscape…

However… Tino had been a slave. And even when he'd gotten away, escaped… he'd been confined to a desert city, in the slums… How old had he been since he'd left behind the greenery… the sea… everything so full of life for the deathlike deserts. Six…? Seven?

If it was anyone else, they would have promised to take Tino someday, but Berwald remained silent. Even if he had begun to acknowledge he liked Tino… the death of his family was still a shadow or ghost of a shadow cast over his heart. It wasn't something he could so easily forget. Would any form of relationship with Tino, or anyone else, betray his wife and child?

These thoughts plagued him for the duration of the trek through the tunnels. Why did things have to be so hard?

/

It was about half an hour later that they emerged into the light, and into grassy rolling hills full of farm land. Actually, they stepped right out onto a farm, a few metres away was a man, bent over and pulling potatoes out of the ground. He smiled and waved, standing up straight as he saw them.

"Are you headed to see the Shadow King…?" He asked, eyes twinkling kindly, in a merry sought of tune.

Ludwig, taking charge of the group nodded. "Ja… Is he at home?"

The man shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Last I saw, he was headed down to the southern fields to help with a problem with Alfred."

Berwald frowned at the conversation, not understanding what the hell they were talking about. What kind of Problem?

Ludwig and the man exchanged a few more, brief, words before the man returned to his work and they continued on, taking a path that was obviously headed southwards.

As they walked, Berwald saw mountains, hazily blue in the background. That meant it was snowing there or they were snow capped in the very least. And slightly aside from the mountains, and definitely closer, he saw a sprawling city. It glittered under the sun, and colours of white, gold, red and green, made up the city. But it was too far away to make anything else out.

But he did figure out how no one had ever found it. To run, a city would need to trade with other cities and countries. That's why they had the boat village as an extension. But their enemies would be sure to notice an entire village in the middle of nowhere. Hence it was hidden. And there would have been a land trade route through the mountains. But those mountains looked treacherous and one would have to know them well if they were to survive the journey. Hence a sensible man would turn back or find a way around. It wasn't worth the effort. Or even the risk. Either was it worth it if enemies found the boat village, as the winding tunnels were confusing and they wouldn't know the way, how long it would take, how many tunnels there were, or if there were any traps. As said before, it wasn't worth the risk.

And Berwald had to admit, it was clever on the Shadow King's part… Or maybe he was just bum lucky. Heck, he was ready to believe anything at this point. Maybe aliens brought him here or maybe he was just dreaming.

As he pondered on, so enraptured in his thoughts, Berwald failed to notice a muddy bog amongst some trees come into view. As he did notice them however, he snapped to attention. He knew the beautiful world that the Shadow King had mislead Tino to believe was false. He lived in a bog and no doubt, based on the Swede's horrible vision and biased memory, the Shadow King was some great big fat ugly toad who would eat them all up.

They came through the leaves that hung off the bent branches of a willow tree when he found he was clearly mistaken. There was a weedy looking farmer, clutching a broad brimmed straw hat on the bank of the bog. In the bog, struggling madly was a bull. A prize winning bull no doubt on account of it's size and to lose it to the bog would bring great misfortune unto the farmer and his family.

Now, in the bog with the cow, a rope slung around one of their shoulders, were two blondes, one taller with a more golden blonde blond than the shorter male. The shorter of the two was doing all he could to calm the wallowing beast down, despite being waist deep in the filthy bog water/mud.

The taller appeared to be standing back and waiting. When the animal finally began to calm, the taller blond stepped forwards and slowly tied the rope around the sinking bull's neck. He secured the rope and backed out the way he had come, stepping onto the shore and tied the other end of the rope to the saddle of what could only be his horse, a tan stallion with a black mane and tail, black legs and a black muzzle.

At another time it would have been a creature to admire. But right now, it was going through manual labour and admiring someone in strain and stress is a rude thing to do, no?

The taller blonde walked to his horse's front and began leading it forward by the reigns. The rope tightened and the stallion's muscles strained visibly. Back in the bog, the shorter man was through coaxing the once more struggling bull and took a hold of its horns, pulling with all his might as he walked backwards. With his strength combined with the stallion's, the bull began to rise above where he had once been and closer to the bank he came loose with a great sucking squelch.

Now free, the bull offered no gratitude and bolted towards what was possibly his herd, grazing along a river. The taller blond quickly cut the rope attached to his horse so it wouldn't be taken on an unnecessary adventure and the rest of the rope was lost with the bull. The farmer would probably take it off later.

Said farmer meanwhile was thanking the shorter blonde, shaking his hand with a revered kind of face. He took out a bag of money and tried to give it to the blonde but was refused with a smile.

"I can't take the money of a man who can barely feed his family."

"But you freed the bull that will fetch enough gold to feed us for a year. It's the least I could do. And you lost your rope."

"Please, keep it. Use the rope for whatever you need it for. I don't need the money either. Though I would like for you to cut down some trees with your sons and fence off this bog. We can't afford for any animals or people to be lost to it. Food and good beings are few and far between…"

"As you wish… We shall begin to construct the fencing as soon as noon has passed."

"Thankyou…"

No more words were exchanged and the farmer left. He had been given more work to do, and no doubt it would cost him money and time that he could barely afford to lose as is, especially after the bull taking a large chunk of that, but he somehow seemed honoured that this man had given him more work. Like it was the best thing in the world that could happen to him. No doubt he would return home and tell his family and they would all revere and throw a peasant's banquet to rejoice.

The shorter blonde yawned once the farmer was gone and stretched, climbing back up the slight slope that was the bank of the bog.

"Jesus Arthur, you're pushing yourself too hard… I don't think that you should do any more after lunch, kay…?" The taller blonde said as 'Arthur' approached him and took a canteen from the stallion's saddlebags, taking a drink from it as the taller spoke.

"Nonsense Alfred… It's my duty to help them… besides, what leader can I hope to be if I lock myself away in a palace all my life…"

"You fight battles, plan them, rescue whole villages and take on the rest of the world at the same time… I think you do enough."

"And what about you? You spend all your spare time up in the tower when you're not fighting or doing rounds with me. You think I'm the only one who works over time?"

"I have to go up there all the time… you know you guys are screwed if I don't. And that's different. I'm not hauling ten thousand kilo bulls out of mud all day."

"It was 270 kilos you twat!"

"I'm not a vagina…"

"Mature Alfred, real mature…"

"Does this mean I don't get laid later?"

"Is that all you can think about? I'm filthy and covered in mud and all you can think about is sex?"

"Hey, mud is sexy… and sex makes sweat, so you'll just blush harder this time~"

"HEEEY! I think we can stop here! You're not making a great first impression you guys!" Antonio stepped forwards and Arthur, bright red, turned to him, a little surprised. Alfred just grinned.

"… First impression?"

"JA!… Meet Tino Vainamoen and Berry Swedishfart~" Gilbert laughed and got eyeball daggers glared at his back. Though he was being given crap, he knew the albino was serious about Tino's last name. It was a little odd to think of the Fin as having one.

"If that's his name then I'm changing yours to Dinkleman Pantyhose." Arthur said and frowned a little humourlessly, despite the little giggle here and there at his comment. Gilbert just grinned.

"Alright alright… Berwald Oxensteirna… get over it Sir Kinkland."

"ALRIGHT! We get it… you guys love fucking with eachother's names…" Alfred sighed as though he was the one being given the headache. "Now… can someone tell me why the scary dude is glaring at me?"

/

_Bahahahaha! Now we know who the Saviour is, unless you are blind, and Berry has finally seen the guy he hates above all else… pulling a bull out of the mud… yeah, that's real evil, isn't it_


	11. Taru'uk

"Have you ever seen artefacts from the past?"

Berwald looked up. They had been walking for about an hour and he'd been happy enough to remain silent unless he was addressed. Now Arthur was addressing him, having pulled on some clean clothes he and Alfred had in their bag tied to the horse's saddle.

"N'… N'ver…" Arthur looked at him for a moment before smiling and turning away.

"Then I suppose you've never heard of the clans across the western sea…"

"'nly st'ries…"

"Ofcourse…" The shorter blonde turned around to face him, the whole party coming to a halt, which was a chance for a few to get a drink.

Arthur proceeded to tell the story, which Berwald thought was unescessary, but everyone else looked like they lived by it.

"The edge of the world we know ends on the very last island of the green isles… Beyond that is never explored… It's a vast ocean with no visible end and it is said that if you reach the end, you find yourself in the place that destroyed the past. They ended the war with a great explosion and any survivors that emerged had to return to 'medieval' means of life.

That's how we live now and that far western world is forgotten. Now, some say, like the drunken traveller or two, that there is still civilization in that world. For a most part, these people are cut off from us. The great air ships that they would use to reach us have not worked since the war. But otherwise, they are contently living in their own world… the world of the past."

"I kn'w th' st'ry…"

"Yeah?" Alfred said with a smirk. "You don't know it all… They're repairing the air ships… they're coming over here… and that's what this part of the world needs to survive… those western clans train every youngster how to fix things, build things and use things of the past. If they come here then they can make hospitals… with machines that can help a dying man live again… medicine… and so much more than you could imagine."

"H'w d' y' kn'w…?"

There was a moment of silence. Arthur looked to Alfred before back to the Swede.

"Alfred and his brother were born there… they came here on a small air ship with their father and mother when they were very young. Unaware of the war that is going on here, they didn't expect to land and have swords at their throats. The air ship was confiscated by the last Saviour and Alfred's father was murdered. His mother fled, but he became separated from her and his twin brother in a market place. You don't need to know the rest… Only that any old artefacts we come across, Alfred takes to his work shop and tries to fix… And… he's very good at it…"

Alfred smiled, trying to hide the pride at Arthur's words.

Berwald didn't say anything, but it didn't matter. It was like Arthur didn't expect him to. However, at his side, Tino smiled brightly at the story and indeed, it came with a response.

"That's really amazing… What kind of things do you fix Alfred?" The fin asked in a light tone.

"Um… well… anything that I can get my hands on… My workshop was like an old command room that I repaired as well. I can't really explain it to you unless you've seen it before, so you'll just have to wait and see…"

"Is that where we are going now?"

"Ofcourse…" Ivan smiled. "We need to sort out some things…"

Berwald frowned, not fully understanding it. But as they came to the top of the hill that they were climbing, he was completely taken aback.

Off in the far distance you could see very faint hazy images of mountains on the horizon. Between them and that were miles and miles of undulated forestry. And right down below them, glittering like a jewel, lay the sprawling fabled garden city.

There were temples or other such places of worship that looked like they accommodated multiple religions. Paths snaked along everywhere in warm yellow sandstones to white marble. Houses constructed of the same materials were everywhere, beautifully made with bright red tiled rooves, some with little golden decorations above the doors. These depicted angels, animals and creatures of myth.

In the centre of the city there lay a busy market place, people that looked like busy ants scuttled around to attend their daily business amongst the coloured canvas rooves, often highly decorated.

And a little way away from that, was a towering circular building that seemed larger than life. Massive archways revealed the distant forms of people walking briskly or leisurely along corridors. And great wooden frames were built around one half of the building as if it was under construction or being repaired. And Berwald could just see that it had no main roof. Like it was it was almost a giant bowl or arena. That interesting creation of architecture must have been what the Shadow king called home. Speaking of which, proud smile at hand, Arthur turned around and addressed Berwald once more.

"Welcome to the Shadow King's city."

/

"Look at what she did to you!"

Toris sighed as he leant back against the headboard of their bed, eyes closed. He wished he didn't make Felix angry, but he couldn't help it. He wished he could take the Pole away from all of this. He knew they were on the wrong side, but that had been the cause of misjudgement and stupid mistakes.

They had been 'arguing' about it all for the past half hour. So Toris was a little surprised when he heard a sigh to mimic his own frustration and cool fingers brushed along his cheek where it stung a little from the scratch marks he had receive from his last visit to the Saviour.

He opened his eyes, olive looking to the emerald ones for guidance and refuge. The blonde before him frowned slightly before leaning forwards and kissing him.

He hesitated slightly before kissing back, reaching up to immerse his fingers in the languid golden hair.

He knew Felix hated that he had to 'share' him as did he. But he'd take that curse away and they could be free to be just them together. No Elizavetta to mess around with them and toy with their lives.

"I love you…" The Lithuanian whispered against the other's lips.

"… Do you say that to her…?" The other whispered in reply, sadness and fear clear in his eyes and laced his voice. Toris smiled and shook his head before kissing him again.

"Only to you…"

/

The woman, reclad in her usual white garments after the last sexual encounter, drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. She was waiting… and even if she prided herself on her patience, well… it didn't mean she enjoyed waiting around.

Eventually, finally, the doors to the other side of the room opened wide and closed abruptly after. A handcuffed man was dragged in, a look to terrify the devil on his face, clothes torn and thinned and beneath his cotton shirt, she could see his ribs. But not being the devil, she merely smiled at his expression, sparing no pity for his diminishing state.

"Afternoon, Roderich…" She smiled sweetly as she rose to her feet. She raised a hand from within her robes as she stood before him and cupped his cheek.

He glared and spat at her, the globe of saliva landing on her cheek. Unfazed on the exterior, she backhanded him before wiping the spit away.

"… Where is he?" The male demanded more than asked . "You promised months ago that you would tell me where he was…"

"Oh, didn't I tell you Roddy?" She smiled again, tilting her head.

"No! You've had me locked up for two years! And you haven't told me anything!"

"Oh my… I should make amends then shouldn't I?" She said in an amused tone.

Behind cracked glass, tears of desperation gathered at the edges of violet eyes. She supposed that since it had been two years, he should at least have something to go over with in his mind. Though the frailty of the supposed dominant gender, sickened her. But the same sweet smile stayed plastered across her features.

"After the battle of Taru'uk, we brought you back here and gave you trial before you were sent to prison."

"There was no trial! You just threw me in the godforsaken dungeon!"

"Do you want to listen or not? It doesn't bother me at all…"

The brunette frowned before shutting his mouth.

"As I said, you were given trial and sent to jail… /HE/ was given trial as well… and with several others, including his brother, were sentenced to execution…"

Roderich tried to remain motionless, devoid of emotion at the news, old to her, new to him, but a single tear betrayed him and the woman smiled more wickedly, taking sick pleasure in the vile pain she knew was tearing up his insides.

"… We took his head and put it on a spear at the outside the prison wall… every day when I came in to see you, I watched the vultures and vermin tear away at his face…"

"S-STOP IT! YOU'RE LYING!"

In fact, Roderich didn't know what to believe… and quite frankly, he wished he didn't believe any of it…

But later that day, when she was through with him, he peered out the barred carriage window as they passed the wall that circled the prison. A sea of spears and skulls… HIS skull was among them… and knowing that, he broke down into tears when he was thrown back in his cell. Sobbing in the corner, he curled up into the tightest ball possible, repressing all the bad things and scraping at the edges of his memory for something good…

'_Stay put… I'll be back for you…'_

It's ok… just stay put. Stay put… Stay put and relax and remain calm… everything was going to be ok… he wasn't dead. He was alive… by some unknown miracle… he was alive. And he was going to return… He just had to stay put, stay calm and stay alive… because… he was coming… that's what he had promised. He said he'd never leave him… Gilbert had promised him that he loved him.

/

Ludwig looked over his shoulder. Hanging back, a couple metres behind the group as they neared the city gates was Gilbert. He wasn't as loud as usual, having toned down as he dwelled on the past.

Deciding he should console in his brother to make sure he was in right of mind, he walked back to him, keeping pace with him as they walked side by side.

"You ok…?" The younger brother asked.

"Me…? Ja… I'm fine…?"

"You sure…?"

"Ja Ludwig… I am…"

They walked silently for a time before Ludwig spoke again.

"You know there was nothing we could have done… and even if he is still alive to this day… what can we do? We don't know where he is or even if he wants to be found… he could have gone into hiding… a lot of people do these days…?"

"Ja… I know… but I promised him… we left him in that bunker, but /I/ promised him we would be back… I promised I'd get him out of there… I promised I'd show him what music was… He spent his whole life as a fucking science experiment and I promised him freedom… And… And I failed him… and still am failing him…"

Ludwig sighed. The only reason he and his brother were here now, was because of that affair…

/ 

The energetic albino tilted his head with a curious frown as he was lead to the tailor's. Toris was taking him there. He'd gotten a new job, as personal guard to the saviour. But then, he didn't even know what the Saviour looked like, sounded like… and he was expected to guard them night and day.

It also meant for change of uniform. Hence the visit to the tailor.

Toris pushed the door open and lead him into a room filled with shelves and shelves stacked with rolls and piles of fabrics from all places along the silk road.

In the centre, amidst the materials with a white robe in hand and a needle in his mouth sat a blonde… man? Woman…? It must have been a woman because they were wearing a dress… but their waist and hip line wasn't as curvaceous.

"Hm…?" Toris blinked and the male, now obvious with the Adam's apple slightly visible… "I haven't seen you here before… you must be new."

The blonde nodded and stood up, setting the white robe aside and putting the needle in a little pillow that hung off his belt.

"Yeah, I'm new… like, the old guy carked it or something…"

"Oh… he was quite old… maybe I just didn't hear about it…"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. He'd bet anything that these two would be screwing each other's brains out by the end of the month. The whole time his uniform was being made the two engaged in a constant idle chatter. He'd occasionally join in and have a good laugh with them, but what he really wanted was a beer…

…

The next day his new job began. And... he neither saw nor heard the saviour… he had more spare time as a personal guard than as a regular foot soldier. But it was about a month after he started that he was truly required. The Saviour was going to the prison.

He didn't go… but he was summoned upon the saviour's return. When he arrived at the designated confined quarters, the saviour was gone and a guard told him that there was a valuable package inside that he was in charge of protecting. The guard left and he stepped inside.

Fast asleep in the middle of the bed lay a slender male in a white robe… the one Felix had been sewing… He had a few cuts and grazes… but he was fast asleep, a pair of folded glasses clutched in his hand. There was a beauty spot below the left side of his chin, just below his lip. And his brunette hair had acquired a funny curl to the front…

The German smiled as if he was witnessing the ignorance of a young child. In the least he could say it was rather adorable.

But alas, now he was slightly confused as to what to do. He hadn't been given any other orders than to protect this 'precious item'… but it was befuddling as to how. He would feel ridiculous standing to attention at the end of the four-poster.

So, choosing that he would deal with punishment if need be, he sat down in the chair beside the bed, appearing relaxed but alert. He had no idea why he should be guarding this man either. Perhaps he was in relation to the Saviour somehow, or a close friend from childhood past. Or perchance… he was somewhat… special… maybe he was able to…

No! no… Gilbert refused to believe that fable. It was bad enough that stories of unique other men birthing children had been proven true. He could reason with men loving men, as he himself partly did, as there were definite signs that women were surely disappearing. Fewer born each year. But men giving birth was a little freaky… and besides. The Saviour declared it a heathen act and sin against him, any man found with child or such to be burnt.

Sadistic and cruel to an innocent whose only crime was to build a family, Gilbert would agree. But the thought of a guy getting pregnant freaked him out a little.

Yet, these thoughts did provoke others, branching off into hundreds like a willow tree sprouting magnificent from a sapling.

He doubted he'd ever find a maiden to bare child with… and he'd always thought he'd make an awesome father. But perhaps his only way was with another man… But then again, did he want to risk burning for the sake of a family… And asides from that, rumours had been proven again when saying that only certain men could carry child… what if he chose another who was unable to bare children.

And then to an extreme question which he did his best to banish from his mind. What if he could have children? Oh dear God, did he really want to try that…?

Besides, he told himself… he was still young… perhaps far too young at seventeen to be thinking on this matter.

Quite suddenly, he was wrenched from his thoughts by a stirring in the bed and he came to focus, cursing himself and his boredom for his daydreams, as he watched his charge begin to wake. Thinking it best to appear on guard to whoever this was, he rose out of his chair with a light groan and merely stood in front of it, watching the brunette curiously.

The smaller male had hidden his face in his hands as he woke up, like he was trying to push himself back into whatsoever dream he happened to be having. He sniffed and relaxed, parting his fingers after a time, a pair of gorgeous violet eyes looking up at him, one part fearful, three parts curious… or pissed… he couldn't quite tell the difference.

"… Who are you…?" The man said. His voice was spoken softly, but there was something musical behind it. It made one think of the warmth of the Spring sun that witnessed the birth of new life, yet the chilled spires of ice that could twist around one's heart and sap the life from it.

Gilbert inclined his head with a slight frown. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt… I'm here to make sure you stay safe…"

"To guard me, you mean…"

The albino blinked before nodding. "Ja… that's what keeping you safe is…"

The brunette watched him a moment longer, regarding his truthfulness and what he knew to be spoken in his own words. And when he was sure he believed what he said to be true, the smaller man closed his eyes again.

Gilbert smiled. Watching the other, he noted the softness of his features. It was to be called more beautiful than handsome, yet all the same, he was handsome as he was beautiful.

"Might I ask, who you are…?" the German asked softly, sitting back down in his chair. "And where've you come from…?"

"…" the brunette didn't answer for a time and the other thought he had fallen back to rest. But he spoke before the minute was up. "… My name is Roderich… I come from a small village in the Austrian forest… well… I used to…"

"Austria…? Wait… what do you mean, used to…?"

Roderich regarded him once more, as if to see if he could trust him. Apparently he did because he spoke again.

"… When I was a small boy, five maybe… Men in white cloaks found my village… it was supposed to remain a secret from the rest of the world… but they found us and destroyed us… There were two survivors… myself and my cousin, Elizavetta… She was taken away and I never saw her again…"

"And you…?" Gilbert asked, finding himself keen to hear of it.

"… the locked me away… they told me I was a treasure and I was raised from that… they had me kept in a tower to the north…"

Gilbert smiled. "Like the Princess Rapunzel…?"

Roderich looked at him before giving a heart-warming smiled, almost shy in contrast to Gilbert's.

"Ja… but without the hair…"

"Not many people know of that story anymore…"

"When I was first locked away, a man used to come and read to me… he taught me how to read and play music… He made it easier to stay there… but he stopped coming to visit seven years ago…"

"What was his name…?"

"He never told me… but he had gold hair and green eyes…"

"Hey… that was my father…"

"It was…?"

"Yeah… he used to be the Saviour, but he just disappeared one day… that explains why he stopped visiting you… He had an heir take his place, but the new Saviour never really shows themselves."

"I don't like him…"

"Yeah… he's kind of extreme on the punishment side of things… The land is completely hectic now and I swear he sees everything as evil…"

"What do you mean…?"

"Well… Well just last week, I saw a man executed for stealing his neighbour's cow… but even that neighbour pleaded before and after to say he was helping him march his cattle across the stream."

"… that's stupid…"

"Tell me about it…" Gilbert sighed. "So… what happened after my father stopped visiting you…? You clearly just didn't stay there…"

Roderich look at his hands. "The new 'Saviour', is that what you called him…? Well… he ordered me removed from the tower…. I thought it was a blessing… but he took me somewhere where there were no windows or daytime or night time…"

"What happened there…?"

Roderich looked back up at him before frowning and rolling over so his back was to the German.

"It hurt."

/

Gilbert's life had assumed a daily routine. It had been three months since he had met Roderich. They spoke no more on the topic of the painful place, and they spent morning till evening talking.

Whatever the new Saviour had put the brunette through was apparently over. He had nothing to do and was bothered by no one. During the day time, Gilbert walked around the gardens with him, or took him to the great library where books from the long ago past were kept secret from everyone the Saviour had deemed unworthy. Roderich was an exception apparently, and as his guard, so too had Gilbert been given full access.

Today however, they were walking through the garden. It looked as if it might rain, but not for a while, if Gilbert was lucky.

He smiled warmly as Roderich sat on the edge of the fountain, dipping his fingers into the water, the colourful fish swimming up and nibbling at the ends of the digits.

The German chuckled softly as he walked over and sat beside him.

"Do you suppose the stories are true?" The smaller man asked, not taking his eyes off of the fish as he dragged his fingers through the water, making rippling patterns.

"What stories…?"

"The stories about someone they're calling the Shadow King…?"

"Depends what you've heard…"

"I heard… I heard one of the women in the kitchen say that he is righteous whereas the Saviour is in the dark… they say that the befuddlement of names gets people confused and follow the one with the prettier title…"

Gilbert shrugged and smiled. "It could be true. But you should tell no one else about what the kitchen maids say or they'll be accused of treason…"

"I know…" Roderich gave a small smiled as he looked up at Gilbert. "I've just been thinking… perhaps they're right… perhaps if given the chance… we should go to him…"

The albino blinked. "… We…?"

Roderich gave him a look like it was the stupidest thing. "Of course… I'm not going without you…"

Gilbert smiled and went to answer, when there was a roll of thunder and without warning, a great torrent of rain swept over, turning their surrounding's grey and it was hard to see which way to go through the miles and miles of garden and hedging and masonry. The nearest shelter was a small garden shed, which Gilbert led Roderich over to for fear he'd catch a cold.

"Damn…" Gilbert said as he closed the door, the rain humming loud yet dull around them.

Each of them were thoroughly soaked to the bone and Roderich shivered. Worried, Gilbert searched around the shed and managed to collect a towel and a blanket. He'd have to thank the gardener and apologize later.

He put the brunette's glasses on the bench and began to towel off his hair, and like a shy child, Roderich sat there quietly and let him do it.

When he was satisfied, Gilbert smiled at him, towel covering half of the smaller man's face.

"Better…?"

"… A little."

Gilbert smiled again, this time with a little chuckle. Roderich blushed as the German looked at him. And then half out of nowhere, Gilbert leant forward and pressed his lips to Roderich's, sending a chill up the slighter male's spine.

Roderich didn't retaliate. In fact, he kissed back, parting his lips and letting Gilbert slide his tongue into his mouth, teasing his own.

Curious, the Austrian's hands wandered down over Gilbert's chest and stomach, feeling the strength of masculinity coiled within. At his waist he gather the material of the other's shirt and began to drag it up. Within moments it was on the floor.

He flinched and held onto the albino tight as he felt a warm hand disappear beneath the cold wet gown he always wore, leaving a trail of goose bumps along the inside of his thigh. That hand lingered a short while around his hardening manhood before leaving its caresses along his hip, reaching around behind him. And then he felt fingers push up inside him, a broken whine escaping him as he broke the kiss to hide his face in the crook of Gilbert's neck.

Mere minutes later, Roderich was in the other's lap, looking down on him with hazy vision as he rose and fell, his hands splayed out on his chest for support.

In turn, Gilbert looked up at him, eyes drinking in the sight. He knew, through the lust and passion that had thickened the air of the shed, that he loved this man and he would do anything to protect him.

Later, they lay naked as the day they were born in each other's arms, listening to their breathing as the rain continued on outside. The blanket they'd found kept them warm enough and their clothes were draped over the edge of the work bench to dry.

"… Gilbert…?" Roderich whispered after many moments of silence had passed.

"Ja…?"

The German shifted a bit, turning on his side so he could face Roderich, red eyes concerned.

"… Experiments…"

"Hm…? Experiments?"

"Yes… in that room they kept me… they did experiments on me… they cut me open and sewed me shut again… they put needles and things in my skin and when they wanted me to speak and I wouldn't… they… did things… torture… rape… anything they had to…"

He looked up to the man he had given himself to, praying that he would not be disgusted. Gilbert said nothing, but a warm kiss to the forehead and the tightening of his arms around him told him everything he needed to know.

/

"What talk is this bruder?" Ludwig look down on his brother who was basically pleading with him. He'd just returned from the palace, early for once, and had told him everything he dared to.

"West… we have to leave. Whether to join the Shadow King or to go into hiding."

"We can't abandon our father's dreams bruder."

"But what gain of it is there? What have we gained from it except to be put out of our home and with the rest of the soldiers…? And you especially, you know that Feliciano is with the Shadow king… You have a baby over there bruder and if the Saviour finds out you'll both be burnt!"

Ludwig frowned, sighing as he hid his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He had courted Feliciano, by awkward means of course, when he was younger. At sixteen, he was already tall and well-built, a good warrior. In due time he had hoped to marry the younger male. But the Saviour had made it near impossible for any soldier to wander near the lands of the Shadow King without order. He hadn't seen him in one moon off of a year… And he'd received news not long ago that the boy had conceived a son from their last encounter. It was his weak point… he'd never met his young son, yet he loved him dearly all the same.

Sighing, the younger brother gave a tired look to the elder.

"Tell Roderich to be ready to leave in one moons time… we're going to the Shadow king…"

"Danke, West!" The albino yelled happily and hugged his 'baby' brother who merely sighed in annoyance yet smiled for care of his brother.

/

"We leave tomorrow…" Gilbert said softly as he walked the library with Roderich. The brunette smiled up at him in his gratitude.

"Thank you… are you and your brother ready?"

"Yes… we've collected enough provisions and three horses over the past month… the hardest part was keeping them hidden. But we've pulled it off…"

"Then I suppose you'll be too occupied to stay with me tonight?"

"On the contrary, West said it would be best… we have to rise before the castle does though…"

Roderich nodded and smiled and they ceased their talk as the advisor to the Saviour walked past, sneering at them. And then the worst possible thing happened.

Roderich stumbled and his body heaved before he threw up. The advisor stopped and watched curiously as Gilbert tried to help him up, panicking slightly as he vomited again and again.

Later, he was pacing outside Roderich's room. The physician was in there, along with the Saviour. The advisor smiled somewhat triumphantly during the whole examination. He knew something Gilbert didn't and he whispered his knowledge and suggestions into the ear of his superior.

After a while, the door opened and Gilbert stopped pacing. Four soldiers came out along with the advisor.

The fat man addressed him.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, you and your brother are hereby under arrest and shall be put to death tomorrow at dusk for heresy for the condemnation of a child bearing male…"

Gilbert stared at him incredulously. When a man finds out he is to be a father, he was to whoop for joy then wonder how the hell he got into this.

But with four soldiers coming towards him it would not be so.

Then, from within the room, he heard a scream of pure agony. It was Roderich… still precious to the Saviour somehow… they were purging his body of the child which had only begun to grow.

Gilbert now gave his own screams, trying to get away from the soldiers, blind with rage. That rage made him forget who he was and they subdued him easily, dragging him to the prisons…

He was thrown into a cell, by this time having acquired a nasty bruise on his forehead.

The cell door was locked with a creak and he was left to his own, pacing the room furiously before the blow to his head made him dizzy and he sat down on the wooden seat chained to the wall.

Minutes later, the doors were opened again and Ludwig stepped through, calm in all of this… he looked to Gilbert with a gentleness in his blue eyes and after they closed the doors, he walked over and sat down beside him.

"They cut it from him Ludwig…"

"I know bruder…"

"I'm sorry… for all of this."

"Don't be…"

"But… now you have no chance of seeing Feliciano OR meeting your son… because of me bruder."

"Gilbert, calm down… stay focused. I sent a message to Feliciano a week ago… If we aren't at the plains by noon tomorrow, he'll know…"

Gilbert frowned, glaring at the ground. "So that's it then… we give up…?"

"This coming from the one who was apologizing for the dead end."

"What are you going on about…?"

"If you come to a dead end what did Vatti always tell us to do?"

"West, you're mad…"

The blonde smiled, a little sad for the state, but confident. "Climb the wall…"

/

It was around midnight. Gilbert was pacing again, ignoring the dizziness. Ludwig said he should sleep and conserve his energy, and hence the younger slept for the most part, peacefully.

"Gilbert?" The albino frowned at the whispering voice he recognized and looked around, until he saw a boy at the cell window. It was Toris.

"What are you doing here…?"

"Passing on a message…" He held something through the bars and Gilbert reached up, taking it from him. It was a cloth, which was wrapped around something. He opened it and there was a book. On the front printed in bold gold lettering was written, 'Rapunzel'.

"Roderich is alive… for the most part he is well… he has a small fever from the removal… but he says to stay strong. He says he loves you and to look to the north."

Gilbert went to ask what the hell the last part meant, but with a small smile, Toris was gone.

He frowned and looked back down to the small novel he now held.

"Look to the North?"

/

Dusk of the next day was fast to approach. They were silent as they were marched up to the pillars they would die tied against. The entire present crowd knew them well and there was more a look of sorrow than an honest jeer.

Solemnly they were tied to the pillars, and Ludwig gave his brother an encouraging look.

Torches were carried over as their charges were read out. They'd miraculously accumulated over night.

Gilbert had assaulted several chamberlains. This was news to him… he must have done it in his sleep. And Ludwig was charged of assisting heretics and other criminals as well as plotting against the Saviour with the Shadow King.

Both brother's stood there solemnly. To the side, above them, Gilbert could feel a pair of pained violet eyes watching him from a window. But he dared not look. He instead, followed as he'd been told and looked straight ahead. He looked north.

He blinked when he felt the place around his feet grow warm and then hot… he looked down and their he saw the greedy flames growing and already licking at his skin and clothes.

He glared at them before ignoring it to the best of his ability and looking north in determination to stay true.

Then the ground began to tremble and shake. People backed away and scattered in fear as the oiled wood around the brothers' feet fell away and the fires left them be.

The soldiers around them drew their weapons, suspicious of magic of some sort and were ready for their enemies. And enemies there were.

At least twenty horseback soldiers burst from the earth, dirt and rock flying everywhere. Gilbert was completely bewildered and he looked to Ludwig. The blonde however was entirely calm as one earth rider in particular leapt from his horse and began cutting his bonds.

"Vatti?" Gilbert exclaimed as his father removed his ropes and pushed a sword in his arms.

"Reunion for later my sons. Go and get your lover Gilbert… you have twenty minutes before we have to leave."

Gilbert nodded and looked up to the window where he knew Roderich was. The glass panes had shattered, but the iron frames were flung open. Roderich stood with his arms outstretched, glowing green balls of light surging from within his palms and encircling him in a shield. A white green electricity crackled along his skin.

He was an elemental. And earth elemental. He'd carried the horsemen through the earth and brought them back up. Gilbert wished to stand in awe of the beauty of the fabled magic. But the situation was dire and he ran over to the wall, climbing easily up the step like stonework of the vine covered castle. In very little time, he was climbing through the window.

Roderich smiled when he made it through and the lights and electricity vanished and he lowered his arms. Gilbert smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Now I see why the Saviour deemed you so precious."

"That's great Gilbert, but we have to leave now… I'll explain everything when we're free."

The albino smiled and took his hand and began to lead him toward the door when an inclination of pain from the brunette stopped him in his tracks.

He observed him closer still. He was doubled over and beneath the white cloth of his gown he could see angry red cuts, roughly sewn together. And the smaller was sweating and pale… he had a fever which had much grown since of Toris' report.

"Roderich… don't worry… I'm getting you out of here…"

He scooped the smaller up bridal style and carried him out of the room, hurrying as fast as he could. They were out without encounter and his father and brother brought a horse over for him. He mounted and Roderich sat behind him.

"Time's up bruder." Ludwig said, and smiled.

"Give the sod a bloody chance to catch his breath…" Another blonde male said, riding up beside them. His eyes were bright green and he looked to be Gilbert's age.

"Gilbert, this is Arthur… he's the Shadow King…" gilbert's father smiled proud and both the albino and Roderich were amazed at the youth of someone who was supposed to bring great change to the world.

But it was a time of urgency that they were in and pleasantries were stowed away for later.

There had not been a single casualty of the horsemen and twenty-two horses turned and galloped away from the Saviour's castle, disappearing into the forestry.

Gilbert had his eyes set on the trees. They were so close. So close to freedom.

And then a well-aimed arrow to his horse's flank ruined that for them.

The creature whinnied in agony and tripped, it's two riders flung from the saddle. They could spare no remorse for the sorrowful creature.

Desperate like a wild animal wounded and trying to escape a hunter, Gilbert grabbed Roderich's arm and tried to pull him to his feet, begging and pleading with him to continue. His cheeks were wet with the tears that ran so freely because when Roderich tried to stand, he stumbled. His ankle was broken from the fall.

"Gilbert, just go!" Roderich screamed at him, his own tears of pain making their journey.

"I'm not leaving you here." Gilbert said, his tone pleading.

"I'll be alright Gilbert… they'll kill you if you stay…"

Gilbert looked at him with an agonisingly sorrowful face. The saviour's foot soldiers were fast approaching.

Gilbert gave in to Roderich's own pleading gaze and set him down near a tree.

"Don't fight them… stay here and I'll be back for you…"

"Promise…?"

"I promise…"

Gilbert smiled, fear showing, and they shared one more very brief chaste kiss, before the albino found himself tearing through the forestry, as fast as his legs could carry him. He'd been left behind by the other horsemen, but it wasn't long before his absence was noticed and his brother appeared on a horse, pulling him up behind him and going back after the others.

"Where's Roderich…?"

"Wait till the ride's over! I'll explain everything…"

/

That battle of a mere twenty minutes came to be known as the battle of Taru'uk. Translated from ancient language into, Treachery of Stone.

And that was when Gilbert was seventeen. Now he was a young man of twenty-one… Five years since that battle and he had failed his promise to Roderich as of yet. But by god, he would strive to fulfil it no matter how long it took.

Others who heard it said it was impossible dreaming of a fool.

He said, "When you come to a dead end, climb a wall."

/

_There we are… I went through a spurt of writing non-stop for this story and then I just got lost at one point… I knew where I wanted to go and such, I just lost my gist. Anyway. Two weeks of exams and a writing competition later and I found my gist again. Here is the finished product and I hope you enjoy it. _

_This is Gilbert and Roderich's story, with a twist of Ludwig's. I didn't go into much detail on Luddy himself because his and Feli's story isn't one I believe important to the story. But this way I was able to give a clear enough outline of it so that you knew where and how they stood and what roles they play in this story. _

_But yes, Roddy and Gil play a larger role… however their happy ending is not so certain. _

_I love all you guys and can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter._

_PrussianMongrel_


	12. Meaning of Power: Beginning

Arthur was a great man. Berwald knew it. Whether it was kindness or cruelty that made him great, he was great. As they took the marble paths through the garden city, everyone, all of them, moved aside, at the same time, reaching out to brush their fingers across his arms and cloak. He smiled politely at them, but his eyes showed that he didn't want to receive this attention. He was humble. Berwald hated this more. Humble greatness… how could he be evil? It seemed impossible.

His hands had been untied upon entering the city, and he had been lead with Tino to the large circular building. Arthur said it had used to be called the coliseum, an arena where battles of entertainment were held to please great masses of civilians. Now, it had been expanded and turned into a place for war preparation and the Saviour and his closest associates to live, for refugees to begin and a safe place to flee in times of fear.

Inside the walls, there were spiralling staircases, but they took none up… only a few of the group dispersed until it was only Arthur, Alfred, Ivan, Yao, Berwald and Tino. The six made their way to a section of the great monument that was deserted, save for the rare guard or two. Apparently this area was off limits. Or it was important enough that people knew to stay away for the sake of protection or success.

Eventually, they came to the end of a long curved corridor, where a guard stood either side of a trap door. Seeing their Shadow King, they bowed and each grabbed a hold of the handle, they lifted the trap door open, revealing a staircase leading downward into the abysmal earth. Arthur and Alfred first… Berwald and Tino second, with Ivan and Yao straight behind them, particularly keeping an eye on their silent captive.

Berwald thought that this was what he had been dreading to a degree… cold, damp dungeons that reeked of decay and rot. Rats to fight for scraps of food if food be given at all and great halls of torture… Stoic and silent as ever a stone man could be, he couldn't stop the sliver of fear that worked its way up his spine nor could he prevent the bead of betraying sweat that peaked across his temple and left a trail down his cheek.

/

Mathias was ecstatic when they saw the edges of mountains and even then, sparse greenery which lead to a denser forestry. It was a remarkable site and a greater still reality when they stopped at a stream, refilling their canteens for the first time in days. Their cracked lips and sore throats sang in silent rejoice as they drank their fill with the cool water and all three of them, Mathias, Alexander and Katuyasha lay back onto lush grass as the horses cooled off and had their fresh grazing…

"How far…?" Mathias asked after a time, looking over at their lady companion as Alexander dozed lightly, using his chest as a pillow.

"Beyond this mountain range, there is another smaller desert… after that we pass through a large forest before crossing another mountain range, bigger than this one… then from there it is about eighty leagues to the city…" The woman said with a smile. "The next desert is only a three day ride so provisions shouldn't be a problem…"

"Good… I've had enough of deserts… "

"As have I… And trust me Mathias, you and Alexander are going to love this city… it's the most beautiful thing you'll ever see…"

The Dane hummed in tired agreement… but truthfully, the most beautiful thing he could ever lay eye upon, was Alexander and a quiet place with just them… this stupid war was all he had ever known. He wanted something better than that for those he loved… But right now…

His mission was to get Alexander to a safe place… and to find Berwald… Everything seemed to be circling that damned Swede right now… and he wanted to know why.

/

Well… there was no dungeon. Berwald and Tino had been lead to a small circular room deep underground, which they had reached through a long dimly lit passage. But the room itself was well lit and not by fires. By an unnatural glowing blue circle on the floor, like a ring… It was like water but there was clear glass between the surface and the glowing water so that if stepped on they could not touch the source of the light.

"W'ut 're we doin' her'…" Berwald asked, frowning in confusion. He felt like he knew what this might be but at the same time, there was a haze over that information.

"This is old technology from before the wars…" Arthur said and Berwald frowned at him.

"But…. Isn't that what put us where we are?" Tino asked, timid yet somewhat amazed. It was strange, to be afraid yet fascinated by one thing.

"Well… Yes and no… we only know a very little about this machine… but… We think that it holds stories of the past… we'd reach them if we could… but we haven't figured out that part."

"W'ut kind 'o inf'rmation…?" Berwald asked and Alfred smiled brightly, stepping over to a box and undoing the locks at its lid.

"Well… Information about the past… it might tell us about everything that's happening today… why are there elementals? Why are women disappearing? How can men fall pregnant?" The blonde shrugged and pulled something out of the box.

It was a pair of gloves. Not leather gloves… metal gloves… and they had little switches and dials along the wrist with strange patterns and symbols around the palm and fingers. He gave them to Arthur who put them on and they lit up upon attachment, the same eerie blue as the ring on the floor, which seemed to hum in recognition.

"I suppose you've heard tales of the Shadow king's heinous heretical magic, aru…" Yao said, a warm motherly smile putting tiny dimples in his cheeks. "Well this is it…"

The swede looked at the doctor before curious and somewhat awed, looked back to Arthur. The magic wasn't real? It was a trick from old inventions…

"How'd y' get it workin'…?" Berwald asked, fists clenched at his side.

"Alfred fixed them…" Arthur said simply. "Remember, I told you that Alfred came from across the sea when he was a small boy… across the sea they tinker with the remnants of the past and mend them… but there's a catch… it takes years for them to learn how to actually use them… Some people say that there's a tribe of people out there, that when they look upon these technologies, that they can simply use them immediately, as if they had been doing it all their life…" the shorter blonde smiled.

"'nd Y' beli've th't?" Berwald asked with a sceptical brow. Arthur merely smiled and shrugged it off.

"We have been fortunate enough to figure out how to partly use it… But not to what we truly wish… I think this machine…" Arthur looked to Alfred before the taller of the two nodded and let him continue. "We think that this machine might hold some information… information about the past… about the war… about elementals… and something we're all noticing… women… they're what we could call a dying species… Some whole towns have not a woman amongst them… Last week, a baby girl was born in the farming village… it's been three years since a girl has been born… every precaution is been taken to ensure that child's safety… But…" He paused again and the young man at his side continued for him.

"If we can access whatever information that this device holds, we might just be able to fix this problem. Or at least… find out what has happened to everyone… "

"At least we know the human race isn't going to end, da…" There was a cool chuckle and Ivan smiled. "Even with lack of woman, it does not eradicate childbearing persons… why, there's sweet Feliciano and Ludwig… They have two children and a third on the way, da…"

"… So it's true then?" Tino asked before smiling. "Feliciano… I've heard of him…"

"Yes…" Arthur smiled brightly. "Quite a legendary figure, isn't he…"

/

THAT! THAT WAS THE LEGENDARY FIGURE!

The 'legendary figure' was known throughout the world… well, this part of the world anyway from what was once England to Egypt and the Russian clans. He was a boy of extraordinary power. The most powerful elemental one could ever find. And it was said, that the Saviour believed that he had the power to change the tide of the war. So he was endlessly seeking out elementals… Berwald first thought that the Shadow King seemed quite smug about having the world's most powerful magic being under his influence… but… but…

Berwald couldn't see anything legendary about him.

First of all, he was Ludwig's lover. Second… he had children… born naturally. A young son and daughter, the son being the eldest, and a taught bump tightening the fabric of his shirt.

At first glance, he appeared a woman… but he had slight masculine features to define him… but other wise… He had short caramel hair with a bouncing curl just off his left ear. His smile was a lot like Tino's, but his lips were fuller. Following that, he had pale skin and Hazel eyes.

"Oh… Ciao… You must be the man Ludwig told me about…" the young male said with a smile, holding his hand out and Berwald, though hesitantly, shook it. Frowning, just more slightly that per usual, as he shook his hand. His temperature was just a little higher than that of a normal person. But… he spaced out for a moment, not letting go of his hand. It was merely brief however, and he soon smiled again, letting go of his hand.

The swede couldn't help but notice he was exchanging glances with Ludwig and Arthur, as if in silent conversation.

"W'ut?" The tall blonde asked, another crease in his brow. The Italian before him laughed a little and held onto Ludwig's arm.

"It's nothing… Just glad to meet you…"

But something in his eyes said he was keeping a secret now. The greeting continued and Feliciano introduced himself to Tino.

Meanwhile, Berwald was left wondering. What did the boy do…? And asides from that… Arthur and Alfred had showed them a bit of how the machine worked… it let Arthur move objects with his mind… but that was to the untrained eye… the gloves apparently let off a gravitational pull that he could control the power of… this lead everyone to believe that he had supernatural powers over the elements and powers over formable matter… but what Berwald was thinking about the machine and the gloves himself.

Why did they seem so familiar?

/

Katuyasha wandered around the grove, collecting apples and wild berries that were abundant here. They wouldn't last long in edibility, but they would make for a good day or two of feast on with some of the salted meats left over from the checkpoint for the next day or two.

She had an all sorts of edible berries in her side satchel and plenty of apples in her apron. Contented with her supply, she made her way back to the day camp site they had set up before moving off again, checking on the horses on her way. She was about to announce her success in foraging when she stopped and quickly ducked around the tree and peaked over a low bracken.

Mathias and Alexander were sitting and talking about something, as Mathias twiddled a piece of grass in his hands. Alexander said something that made the taller smile, and he moved forwards, kissing him chastely. But… it grew deeper. And the woman grew worried about interrupting some personal moment and the flush on her cheeks only darkened as Mathias kissed and bit softly down Alexander's slender neck. The Norse bit his bottom lip, fingers buried in the other's fading black hair.

But it didn't advance further. Another brief kiss was chanced before they pulled apart. Mathias lay back on the grass and Alexander was left blushing and a few faint marks on his neck.

Trembling, Katuyasha sat down with her back to the tree, her companions gone from sight.

Was she jealous? Yes… she was… because a man could love a man freely these days… fewer and fewer women were being born, and so it was, that fewer and fewer men had an interest for women. Katuyasha had only ever lain with one man… and that was the owner of the orphanage she had grown up in. And that wasn't even of a romantic nature… it had been forced until the point she could take it no more and had abandoned her family.

Ivan… she hadn't seen him since, but at least she knew he was safe… but their younger sister… what had become of her? She felt she'd never know…

/

Berwald lay down on his new bed. There was a guard outside the door, but otherwise, security measures were low. They trusted him… He couldn't truly grasp why…

He had promised Tino he wouldn't do anything without good cause to… but his whole being screamed at him to get to the Shadow King… Get to Arthur… Kill him… make him pay for his family.

He sighed, resting an arm over his eyes to shut out the world and its troubles, shivering slightly from the cool night breeze.

/

Roderich lay curled up in a foetus position in the dampest corner of his cell. A lonesome rat scurried across the floor. It would have once terrified him and repulsed him… but he had long grown accustomed to its presence and could not thank it more for the company it had given him.

Running right up to him, the rat twitched it's nose, silky brown fur turning silver as it moved, the moonlight filtering through the barred window making it shine. Roderich ran a hand over its back in a type of stroke, smiling softly, silently… In response the rat curled up against his chest and dozed off, having changed its sleeping pattern to suit that of the warmth the other's body had to offer. Was it survival instinct? Or was it a friendship no one could explain…?

Roderich didn't care… at least he wasn't alone.

/

"Gilbert… where are you going?" Ludwig asked as he leant against the door frame, watching his brother pack his bag. He was being meticulous… something he rarely was in anything. Whatever he was doing must have been important.

"I have to go West… I can't sit by and wait any longer…"

The albino looked at the younger brother, a look in his eye that gave it all away.

"You can't save him on your own bruder. We're not ready… and Arthur has said-"

"Look! I don't care what Arthur has said… we're never going to be ready… he keeps saying, sooner than you think… not long now… but how long until they kill him bruder… he's not useful to them anymore…"

The two men looked at each other in silence. But after a short time, Gilbert slung the bag over his shoulder and started walking past the taller of the two.

Ludwig caught his arm and stopped him, pulling him closer and pressing their foreheads together.

"Then please Bruder… Be safe. Save him…"

"…. Without a doubt… I'm going to get him out of there."

They looked at each other a moment longer before Gilbert was gone.

/

_Whoo, Finally. I got the gist to finish this chapter. I hope you lot approve. _

_This is where everything officially starts happening. Gilbert sets off a chain reaction of events but please don't blame him. _

_So Gilbert is off to Save Roderich. Berwald is drowning in seas of thoughts about the Saviour, the Shadow king, and ofcourse, Tino. Katuyasha is jealous of her companions. And Feliciano has the power to change the tide of the war._

_What do you guys think will happen next?_

_Keep reading because I ain't gonna stop writing. _

_Love Forever_

_Prussian Mongrel_


	13. New Life

Gilbert had been on the road for a period of five days now. He left his horse on the boarder of the country that belonged to the Saviour. That was the previous day. And as he walked across the land, all renewed with new saplings and old destroyed trees covered in rapid growing weeds. It didn't look like a war had occurred here. No… it looked like it was a place where children could hunt for the fairy rings and unicorns.

He frowned at a squirrel, adjusting the rope and pack on his shoulder, carrying on.

He breathed a soft sigh of a relief a few hours later when through the bracken; he had to crouch low, a familiar sight appearing beyond the fringes of the forest. That damned castle… it was the place he'd put his heart and soul into serving. He'd met the love of his life there and his life had been turned upside down there.

A dark frown set itself on his forehead. That place had murdered his child.

He longed to charge in now. But it was almost dawn of his sixth day on the move. He needed to suss things out before it got too light, and then prepare himself and rest during the height of the day. He went to turn, when a few meters down from him, he heard whispers.

One guard was replacing another and were having a short moment of gossip.

"Did you hear Fallahn... The elemental's execution was approved… two days time."

Gilbert clenched his teeth, but smiled. This was perfect. He didn't need to find Roderich's cell now. Smiling, he disappeared back into the forest.

/

Feliciano awoke, looking around before he clutched his baby bump, a soft whimper escaping him. As the stab of pain began to fade away, he smiled softly and sat up carefully, smiling wider and more lovingly down at his lover and the two children between them.

Another dull pain of the beginning made him seize up once more. He waited until it was gone before he leant over his two babes and nudged Ludwig's shoulder. The German stirred, sighing softly before he opened his eyes and looked up at Feliciano, two ice blue eyes staring up at him. "Feliciano…?"

"… Ludwig…" The Italian smiled and looked to his bump, feeling a little kick before the pain slowly became known again. "… It's happening…"

/

Berwald couldn't believe it… It was just into the second day. The entire town had stopped and were either knelt down in prayer, or dancing, singing and playing music. Feliciano had gone into labour. It had been just over a week since the Swede had arrived, and he was totally confused by it all.

The boy had been contracting regularly until the early hours of that morning, which was roughly thirty hours. Just on dawn, they had gotten really painful, and he was hardly having a break between them. When he had passed the room, he'd overheard Arthur talking with a nurse. The nurse said that she was worried, because the boy's water hadn't broken yet.

His last two children had been born quickly, within the first day. The elderly woman bowed her head in worry. She feared that the Italian was not birthing. She feared he was miscarrying.

Inside the room, the poor caramel haired boy lay on his side, whimpering, but chattering away happily enough as Ludwig sat beside him, holding his hand and stroking his hair.

And Berwald felt sorry for them… They were looking forward to the third addition to their family. Would they lose it so easily?

He sighed and continued on his way. He was no longer under guard. But people always double checked where he was at certain times. He had places he was required to go. If not, Ivan was at his heels.

Today, as for the past two days Feliciano had been contracting, he was to meet Tino, Lovino and Antonio in the Children's room, where they looked after little Maria, and Bene. He wasn't too sure why they gotten him to help look after the 'chosen one's' children… Did they not still suspect him of working for the Saviour? Surely they would keep a heavier eye on him.

But… the funny thing was, to Berwald anyway, that he didn't try to use the children for escape. If he took one and held a knife or something to its head, he should be able to make it out of the city. But…

He didn't. He just went there day after day as he was asked and helped look after the kids. Which mainly for him, involved standing in a corner silently like Ivan did on the opposite side of the room while Tino and Yao did all the actual running around after the kids. And when the two youngsters were asleep, he was given time to sit down and talk to Tino… even though he did minimal talking. But Tino covered enough talking ground for an army, so it didn't really matter.

Today, the two children went to sleep early… which was just after they'd eaten lunch, rather that two or so hours after that. They had curled up on their bed together and dozed off, little Maria, a rare born girl, sucked on her thumb lightly, surrounded by her golden curls. Bene had scruffy brown hair splayed himself out across the bed like he owned the place, taking up most of the room. But Maria didn't seem to mind.

Berwald sighed as he sat down beside Tino, the younger male leaning on his arm tiredly. He knew that he and Tino were in a 'relationship' of sorts, but he felt so awkward, he didn't know what to do. As they sat there in silence, he looked down at the back of his healed hand, looking at the still slightly pink scarring from the sandstorm. He'd have that for the rest of his life now.

Tino smiled up at him and leant down to kiss the scars. His lips were warm and soft and it felt oddly nice on the scar tissue. When he looked up at Berwald again, the Swede gave a small smile.

That was another thing, he hadn't even twitched his mouth to a smile for years now… but he couldn't help himself around Tino. The boy just made him want to smile… and so he did.

"Why… Why 'r y' helpin' me?" The Swede asked after awhile, looking at the ground. The Fin blinked and looked up at him.

"Berwald… Sometimes, people just do things because it is the right thing to do… and helping you IS the right thing to do… ok… so stop asking me the same thing…"

Berwald sighed before another small smile appeared at the scolding and he nodded. "Y's boss…"

/

Gilbert sat in the forest, eating some foraged berries. The execution was set for that night…. He didn't have long and he wanted things to go smoothly. He dared to utter a small sigh before he climbed to his feet and crept through the bowed ferns to the edge of the forest once more, looking through to where the biggest pyre he had ever seen was being set up.

Were they planning on burning Roderich into nothingness…?

He was so busy observing what was going on that he didn't notice the light crunching of dried out forest floor leaves as someone… two people actually, crept up on him. He did manage to after all hear it, but it was too late. He turned and growled, going to draw his dagger, when the larger of the two, thumped him across the head and he crumpled to the floor. Picking up his sorry ass, the flung him over the larger one's shoulder and took him to the castle.

/

The blurry world came into focus quite slowly, along with a growing pain on the side of his skull. Trying to move, the albino came to find himself tied to a chair. He growled at the restraints, and there was a laughter. Looking around madly, he turned his head from side to side, but no one came to his sight.

"Who the hell are you?" He said in a demanding tone.

"Oh… forgotten your old master already?" There was another soft laugh and he felt a gentle caress to his left cheek. He shuddered at the Saviour's touch and clenched his eyes shut.

"You are not my master! And you never were." He spat out.

There was silence. And… then more blackness. Struck out into the cold again, his last conscious thought was that he was already sick of this shit.

/

Berwald sighed, walking through the corridors. His shift with the children was over for the day, Feliciano was still in labour, and he was headed to his room for a rest.

On the way to his room, he passed the door that led to Tino's room. The door was open a slight crack, as if closed carelessly. The Swede frowned and looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching him before he pushed the door open just a little wider to take a peek, wanting to make sure that the Fin was alright.

The smaller male was curled up in the middle of his bed, face out of sight as his back was to the door. Nothing would have been wrong with this scene, as he appeared to be sleeping, except… Berwald could here soft sniffles, as if the other was crying. Again, he looked around before sighing softly and stepping into the room. The door creaked and at the noise, a surprised Fin sat upright and looked at him in shock.

"A-Ah… Berwald… W-What are y-you doing here?" He asked in a shaky voice. Not wanting to appear weak to the other, he tried his hardest to dry his cheeks hurriedly on his sleeves.

"I w's jus' checkin' in on y'…" Berwald said honestly, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed beside the smaller man. "W'uts wrong?" He asked. He was still awkward in this relationship, memories of his family still a large haunting on his mind… but, in comfort to Tino, he took the smaller hand in both of his broader ones, the scarred one on the top.

Tino looked at the hands for a time before he sighed shakily and leant against the taller, a few more fresh tears traipsing down his cheeks. "It's just… well… stuff happened in Egypt… when I was younger… I… I-I want to open up to you more… I really do… but I'm just… there's this fear… and it won't go away. Every afternoon when you have to go back to your room… I feel so lousy…"

"Tino… do y' re'lly w'nt t' be with m'…?" It made perfect sense if he didn't. They hardly knew each other… what infatuation they did have, it was no more than a few laughs together in a desert storm. After that, things became hectic, and whilst it seemed a good idea at the time… it was a hasty decision… perhaps both had gone into it because they both had a sense of wanting someone, no matter the reasons…

"W-well… I do… but… I… I…"The Fin went silent and bit his bottom lip, looking away. God, he did like Berwald. A lot… but…

They both knew this as well… Berwald wanted to kill the man Tino believed in… Arthur… The Shadow King… Berwald was still loyal to the Saviour, no matter how many times he said he wasn't. To him, it was the man that had promised him his revenge. His wife… His child…

Tino knew he could never take their place. Berwald loved them. He probably still dreamt of playing with his son, imagining what he would be like had he not been murdered. And he probably still dreamt of cold nights his wife had turned warm for him, retreating to piles of furs beside a burning hearth. And then…

Tino shook his head, not letting his mind wander any further. He didn't believe he was capable of doing for Berwald, what his wife had done.

"I'm sorry…"

Berwald was silent, and Tino looked up at him worriedly, terrified he might have offended him in some way. But the Swede smiled softly at him and kissed the back of his hand. "It's f'ne…" he said, and stood.

"I'll se' y' t'morrow…"

The smaller man smiled in relief and nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow…" He repeated and watched the man leave. It was over now. Berwald didn't have to worry about forgetting his wife and child for Tino's sake. He could do as he pleased. A relationship… it wasn't for them. It was better that they just remain friends.

/

"How are you holding up Feliciano…?" Ludwig asked, stroking some hair out of his lover's sweaty forehead. Most families these days involved two fathers. But the number of children never reached beyond two or so. This was his and Feliciano's third child, and he got the feeling, it wouldn't be the last.

But this was definitely the Italian's longest and most gruelling labour. It was really taking its toll on him. He hadn't eaten in days, not being able to swallow anything more than water without throwing it up. Due to that, his little plump cheeks had already hollowed out a bit, and his eyes surrounded by sunken shadows.

He made a silent promise to bring the boy a feast as soon as this was over.

However grim the boy's appearance though, a joyous smile lit up his face. "Ve… I'm so happy that it doesn't matter… We're going to have a new bebe in the world… I can't wait to meet him…"

The blonde tried not to smile, but he just couldn't suppress it. And a bright smile lit up his usually grim features. He leant forward and kissed his lover gently, who returned it tiredly.

/

Gilbert couldn't remember having so many violent beatings in his life. He'd been take straight to a windowless cell after he'd met with his old boss, where five brawny guards had chain him, feet dangling, to the ceiling. He was like a live meat punching bag. They'd taken burning torches and hot red iron rods, burning images and inane words into his back.

Oh, he had screamed the place down, swearing unto all of them a horrible death. But no matter how much they asked for information to the whereabouts of the Shadow king's city, his movements OR plans… he would not yield. It only incurred the agony to continue for hours.

Bloodied and beaten, his screams and curses soon ended. He tried to sleep where he hung, but could only endure everything silently too tired and throat too hoarse to carry on anymore.

But they continued to jeer at him for he cried, staring off into space as endless tears rolled down his face. Many hours later from then, the Saviour walked in for possible the second time that day, to run an inspection, Gilbert stared at her blankly. He had been surprised to learn the first time that it was a woman. She dressed in white robes, tanned skin contrasting to the cloth, long golden brown hair in a cascade to her waist, a little pink flower tucked in behind her ear for what… appeal? And malicious green eyes that he wanted to gouge out.

She looked at him, before looking back to the guards.

"Anything?" she asked. The head guard shook his head.

"Nay ma'am."

Sighing, she looked at the tortured man before approaching him, obvious disdain in her eyes, that became contradicted by her voice and words.

"Gilbert… please… this can all end… If you give us the location of the city, The Shadow King's plans, and his weaknesses… then you shall suffer no more."

Gilbert glared at her and looked away.

"And… if you do… I will grant you… and Roderich, freedom…"

He blinked… Freedom? They would be… free… just them… Too shocked to say anything, Gilbert looked at the woman as if to confirm it. She smiled and looked to the guards. "Take him to Roderich's cell… He may need some time to mull it over…"

And with that, she left the room. The head guard nodded to his associates and they took Gilbert down, the albino slumping against one of them. Suddenly, they were being nice to him, and gently they carried him out of the room and through multiple dark stone corridors, which he saw through barred windows that it was late at night.

It took time, but eventually, half unconscious, he heard the sound of a cell door opening, and felt himself being laid down on a stretcher. The door closed, and the guards were gone. He thought he heard a shaky breathing somewhere in the room. There was a scuffle on a dirty floor, and then nothing for a long time.

"… Gilbert…?"

That voice… Gilbert's mind went from half dead, to frantic. His eyes darted around the dark cell, but seeing nothing, he tried to sit up, groaning as he pushed his body too far.

"N-nein! Don't do that…"

The albino looked again, half upright… but before he saw him, he felt the slender, warm hands of his beloved elemental. He was pushed back into the cot where he groaned again, eyes closing briefly in pain.

When he opened them again, there was Roderich.

The first thing Gilbert did, was burst into hopeless tears. He had never cried so much in his life if at all, compared to how much he had shed tear in that day.

Roderich smiled, a few tears of his own sliding down his pale cheeks and he wrapped his arms around the other, holding onto him.

"I knew it… I knew you'd come back for me…"

"I promised…"

/

Hours later, Roderich sat silent in Gilbert's arms, the albino dozing lightly. He had told him of the deal. He didn't know what to think of it. Lord above, he wanted nothing more than to be free of this place and not have to worry on anything more than loving the man that had loved him so tenderly on one particularly rainy day in a garden shed.

But… The Shadow king was the only hope of stopping the Saviour. To be free with Gilbert… would condemn the rest of the world.

That was it. He had made up his mind.

Tugging on the albino's hand, he waited until he stirred and looked at him tiredly.

"What's wrong…?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

"Gilbert… We can't be free together…" Roderich said, plain and simple. This wasn't a time for beating around the bush.

The look Gilbert gave him was heart breaking, and he really wished he had been selfish and a coward. But courage, was better… The chance was that they would both die. But Roderich could face that with a clear mind and heart.

Smiling sadly, he brushed the side of the Warrior's face, and kissed him gently.

Gilbert was hurting physically and mentally. But if they were to die, then he would spend one last night with Roderich.

The elemental helped him into a dark corner where guards could not see when peeking through the door. The brunette had his back against the wall, Gilbert kneeling so he sat in his lap. It was a sweet reminiscence of their past. The struggled with it, but remained silent. Roderich's curled his fingers needily into the silvery hair, kissing his lover tenderly, in thankful ways, and in means of farewell… And when all was done… The dressed and fell into a contented sleep in each other's arms.

/

"What's wrong?" Ludwig asked, having been woken and pulled into the birthing suite… he had only gone to bed at midmorning… it was noon now…When he stepped into the suite, he had his answer. Feliciano was screaming, legs braced up, face red with effort as he fought to get the baby out. Wide eyed, the German snapped into action and was at his lover's side in an instant, holding his hand tightly and telling him all the things he should in this situation.

Today, the baby was going to be born.

/

Roderich stared at the crowd and their contorted features. He heard their jeers and wanted to cry. On the lower platform, waiting his turn, stood Gilbert, already covered in rotten fruit and vegetables. But his red eyes remained fixated on Roderich.

Hands tied behind his back, noose around his neck, Roderich couldn't do anything… he was trapped. The barrel beneath his feat wobbled unevenly. It was going to be kicked from underneath him at any moment now.

The rope burned as the barrel was kicked out of place, scarring his neck immediately. His neck didn't break, which left him to struggle for air, even if he had accepted death, and his legs thrashed about of their own accord as he gasped desperately for oxygen like a fish out of water. He heard some bangs and crashes , shouts of pain and rage and then he crashed to the floor, suddenly able to breath.

Over on the other platform, Gilbert had broken free of the rope that had tied his hands, his wrists bloodied and bruised. On the end of Roderich's noose was his little rat friend, still gnawing at the frayed rope. It scurried across his body to the bonds at his hands and chewed enough that could free him. At last, the brunette could stand, gulping in the air greedily as he pulled the noose off.

In a hurry, Gilbert was at his side, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the crowd. Roderich looked back for his rat in all the excitement, and screamed as he saw it's weak form trampled and crushed by soldiers chasing after them.

In moments, they were running into the forest, heading south. Tears of fear, anxiety and adrenaline poured down the slender male's face. But he followed his lover with a determination. Gilbert knew where they were headed.

They shot through a clearing fenced by bracken in most places, when things seemed to play out just like they did last time.

Gilbert's ears caught the sound of a faint whistle. Everything slowed down immensely.

A scream tore out of the albino's throat as he looked over his shoulder. A panicked look appeared on Roderich's face, wondering why the albino did so.

But then blood sprayed across Gilbert's face just as he tightened his grip on the smaller hand. The two men stumbled and crashed to the ground. Time resumed it's normal course.

Gilbert picked himself up immediately, getting back to Roderich's side and pulling him into the bushes to hide. The smaller man gurgled and choked as blood gushed out of a splintered puncture in his jugular. An arrow had shot through him… this time… Gilbert was helpless. Sobbing in a frantic manner, repeating over and over 'no', he tried to quell the blood flow, holding his hand over the wound.

This couldn't be happening… they had been so close… so close to escape…

As he sobbed, he felt a bloody hand on his cheek and he leaned into.

"… Don't… Don't go Roderich… You can't leave… You can't leave me alone… You're all I live for…"

He only got one hoarse reply, and a pair of glasses pushed into his hand.

"…. Run…."

He looked at the brunette and kissed his bloody mouth one last time before he tore away from him, sprinting through the woods and leaving him behind. He knew if he turned back, he wouldn't be able to continue. But he knew more, that Roderich didn't want him to die…

He ran for hours… but now… blinded by tears and sorrow… he didn't know where he was going. And he ran until the soldiers were long gone, and he was lost.

/

Feliciano screamed one last time, making his biggest push of the day. A high pitched scream mingled with his as it permeated the air and the Italian collapsed back into the bed, his once round stomach deflating with the absence of child. Tears streamed down his sweaty cheeks as he smiled at the baby as it was placed in his arms.

"… V-ve… we have a son…" He said with a tremble, looking up at Ludwig, who gave him a look that said this was one of the proudest moments in his life.

Swallowing, the blonde nodded and wiped his own eyes. "Ja… Our little boy…"

"Ve… Theo…" He smiled and looked back at the newborn, slowly settling into it's mother's arms.

/

_Ding dong, Roderich's dead, Don't kill me, I like my head._

_Sorry guys, vital to the story. Two reasons…_

_Gilbert and Roderich were together too briefly… I wouldn't have been able to make it work without it being another tacky romance. _

_Two… Gilbert is lost in the wilderness now… he'll take a road we were introduced to in the first chapter, collapse in the same ditch, and be nurtured back to health by someone who could really use a pair of glasses and a helping hand to find his family. Gil is his only hope for this person, and for Alexander if our Norwegian friend wants to remember who he really is. _


End file.
